The Trenchcoat Avenger of Truman High
by RonsPigwidgeon
Summary: Castiel Novak does not tolerate bullies, so when he sees a fellow senior teasing his new friend Sam, he reacts without thinking. He never thought the guy would be Sam's older brother, nor that his own actions might be the catalyst for the most important relationship of his life.
1. Chapter 1: Do Not Touch Sam Winchester

**Title: **The Trenchcoat Avenger of Truman High

**Author:** rons_pigwidgeon**  
**

**Pairing:** Dean Winchester/Castiel

**Rating: **NC17

**Warnings: **Nothing for now, but later chapters are gonna be chocked full of the sex. You've been warned.

**Summary: **Dean thought Truman High would be like every other high school he's been to in the last year. He has his sights set on getting to third base with the hottest girl in school and doing as little actual school work as possible. Dad will be finished with his job in two weeks, tops, and then they'll be moving on. He wasn't expecting to be clothes-lined by a short, awkward dude in a trench coat, but that isn't going to stop him from thinking it's hot.

Castiel Novak does not tolerate bullies, so when he sees a fellow senior teasing his new friend Sam, he reacts without thinking. He never thought the guy would be Sam's older brother, nor that his own actions might be the catalyst for the most important relationship of his life.

**Beta: **bellasauraus

**Author's Note: **This story was brought into fruition by a tumblr prompt by buttsexandwaffles:

_Underage High School AU where Dean is picking on Sam and just being a jerkish big brother, giving him a noogie and then all of the sudden he's slammed against a locker and dragged up by his collar by this little straight-nosed blue-eyed shit who's a half-head shorter than he is but apparently made of steel, and he just leans in and growls, "You will not touch Sam Winchester." And naturally, Dean just… Wants. Ah, reverse size!Kink and bottom!Dom Cas AND underage._

While I wasn't able to fit the underage portion of the prompt into the story, I think the other bits are all present. And obviously, the story sort of ballooned outward from there. I intend for this story to go through canon. I have at least five chapters entirely finished and several others fleshed out. I plan to publish every other Sunday to keep things consistent (and also to give me a goal so I don't get lazy).

I have tried to incorporate as much of canon as I could into this story, which has included as much of the dialogue as was necessary. I chose not to add an asterisk to every line taken from canon only because I thought having an asterisk at the end of every other line of dialogue for several pages might get extremely annoying for my readers after a while. However, please note that if the line sounds like it came from the show, assume that it did and give credit to the writers (or in one case, Jared Padalecki for being a genius). I will try to add references to the end of each chapter that contains canon dialogue, but if I miss something due to having written several key scenes months before posting, please let me know so that I can give credit where it is due.

* * *

Amanda Heckerling is smirking at him from behind her locker door, blonde hair shining in the sunlight. She is gorgeous, blue-eyed, and sweet as pie.. If it is the last thing he does before they leave this god-forsaken school, he is going to find out just how good she tastes. He rakes his eyes down her, smirking back and licking his lips. God, she's hot.

And Sam is looking at her as he walks past. Dean doesn't even have to think before he sticks an arm out and pulls his midget of a little brother in by the neck and growls in his ear. "You see that girl? You do not look at her, talk to her, even think about her, got it? She's out of your league. I catch you looking at her again, and you'll wish I'd let that werewolf eat you last summer, capiche?"

Sam rolls his eyes and tries to pull away, but Dean won't let him go. "Dean, come on…"

"What, you got somewhere you need to be, Sammy?" he asks, reaching up to bury his knuckles in Sam's scruffy hair.

Before he knows what's happening, he's being shoved into the lockers so hard the wind is knocked out of him. The shock of it makes him lose his grip on his brother, who steps back with giant eyes, white-knuckling his books to his chest. Dean looks down at his attacker and is even more surprised to see a short, black-haired ball of fury glaring up at him. "You do NOT. TOUCH. SAM. WINCHESTER," the guy snarls, leaning into Dean.

Dean swallows and wonders who turned the heat up. The guy gives him more glare. Shit, that look gets any more intense and he's going to set Dean's jacket on fire.

By now, Sam has shaken his own shock away and is pulling at the kid's shoulder. "Let him go, Cas!"

The guy glances at Sam over his shoulder, frowns, looks back at Dean, and finally lets him go. "I do not tolerate bullies. Do not touch another hair on my friend's head or you won't like the consequences."

"Slow it down there, Steve Rogers. I'm not a bully. Sam's my brother. We were having a brotherly talk, weren't we, Sammy?" Dean knows he should just shake this off and walk away, but he can't stop staring at the kid in front of him. He's never been clothes-lined by anything this small that wasn't supernatural before.

'Cas' turns to Sam. "You let your brother talk to you that way?"

Sam forces a smile and nods.

"And you are?" Dean asks, voice going uncomfortably low for a second. He swallows again, but doesn't look away from the guy. He barely reaches Dean's chin, but his stance makes up for his lack of height. He wears a trench coat that is a little bit too big for him and the ugliest sweater Dean has ever seen underneath, but his eyes are intensely blue and focused, and his face is angular, lips plush and very, very pink. Fucking gorgeous, a tiny voice in the darkest recesses of Dean's thoughts whispers. He promptly shuts the voice up.

"Castiel Novak. You sit behind me in English."

"I do?"

"Observant, I see." He turns to Sam, the glare smoothing off his face. "We're going to be late for study hall."

Sam nods again and drops his books to his side, turning to walk with Captain Trenchcoat. "Let's go, then. See you after school, Dean."

"Nice to meet you, _Cas_." Dean's eyes go to his ass hidden under baggy khaki fabric. Cas narrows his eyes at Dean over his shoulder and walks away with Sam without saying anything. Dean doesn't look away until a tap on his shoulder brings him back to earth. Amanda steps into his view, all butter and sunshine, and he forgets all about Cas for the time being.

"So, what's with the trench coat? You auditioning for Casablanca or something?" Dean asks, leaning over his desk to reach Cas' ear.

Cas turns his head to glance back, his face scrunching in confusion. "I like this coat. At least I do not look like Mouth."

"What was that; you like my mouth? Sorry, sweetheart, I don't swing that way." Dean drags his eyes over Cas' face, smirk widening.

Cas only rolls his eyes. "You do, actually, but that is beside the point. I was referring to Mouth from the Goonies, played by Corey Feldman. The rock band t-shirt under an open button-down under a distressed jacket look matches his exactly, and you both appear to never know how to shut your mouths."

Dean is too stuck on the first part to have even heard the second. "I do not."

Cas says nothing, only raises an eyebrow. The teacher begins talking before Dean can throw out another denial.

"You really like that Shakespeare stuff, huh? You barely had your hand down all class." Dean pulls Cas in by his neck, grinning as they leave the classroom. Cas looks vaguely annoyed, but doesn't pull away.

"I had to make up for your lack of intelligence. Did you even read the play?"

"Yeah, I've read it. All that star-crossed lover crap, and the thumb biting. Thumb biting? Really? That's a come-on, not a threat."

"If you have the romantic sensibilities of a primate, I suppose so."

"Right, because a 13- and 16-year-old killing themselves over a summer fling is so romantic."

"Dean, god, would you leave Cas alone? Just because he's my friend, that doesn't mean you have to harass him all the time," Sam whines from behind them. Dean and Cas both turn to look at him over Dean's shoulder.

"It's all right, Sam. We were discussing Shakespeare," Cas informs him.

"Dean hates Shakespeare." Sam has his bitch face on. Dean fights not to roll his eyes. He loses that fight.

"Dean was just expressing that opinion."

Dean slides his arm off Cas' shoulder and drops it to his side, turning fully to face his little brother. "What's up, Sammy? Don't you have class?"

Sam scowled. "So do you," he says.

"You do have biology class in a minute," Cas chimes in.

Dean turned to Cas, hand to his chest. "Et tu, Brutus ?" He pauses, shakes his head. "Should I even ask how you know that? Never mind." He turns to Sam. "I will see you after school. And you," he points to Cas, "stay creepy."

Cas rolls his eyes. "Goodbye, Dean—Sam." He nods to them both and walks away.

Sam gives Dean a look. "Could you lay off him, please? He's my friend."

Dean grins at him. "I like him. He's fun to poke." Sam's bitch face doesn't go away. Dean sighs and rolls his eyes. "Sam, I don't think he minds. If he didn't like it, I don't think he'd have any problem clothes-lining me, do you?"

"No, I guess not."

"Then don't worry about it. Get to class; you'll be late."

"Dean…"

"Go." Sam reluctantly went. Dean made his own—much more leisurely—way to biology.

"For your next assignment, you will be pairing up with a classmate to re-write a scene from a Midsummer Night's Dream, using modern-day speech. Next week, you'll be performing the scenes in front of the class." A collective groan sweeps the classroom, and the teacher laughs a little at them. "Remember, Midsummer's a comedy. You can be as silly as you want. Have fun with it. You have the last ten minutes of class to pick your partners and start planning." The teacher turns from them to take her seat, smiling to herself at the pained looks on her students' faces.

"Hey Cas, wanna be the Titania to my Oberon?" Dean asks, leaning over his desk.

"Aren't you more of a Bottom?" Cas responds, turning to him with the smile that always means he thinks he's hilarious.

"I didn't realize you were looking so hard, Cas. It's a nice one, isn't it?" Dean licks his lips.

Cas blows out an annoyed breath and shakes his head. "I am not going to be your partner. You haven't turned in a single assignment since you got here."

"That's why I need you as my partner. Need you to straighten me up, teach me to fly right." He glances around the classroom and his smile gets wider. "Plus, it looks like everyone else already has their partners. Looks like you're stuck with me."

Cas' smile slides off his face, only to be replaced by a hard stare. "You are going to do exactly what I say, when I say it, and you are NOT going to flake out on this. Do you understand me?"

"I'll do whatever you tell me to, sweetheart. Just tell me how high to jump."

"High."

The low growl of it goes straight to Dean's dick, leaving his jeans a little tight. He doesn't even blink. Neither does Cas. "So, are we going for burgers to talk about this after school, or what?"

"You don't have plans with Amanda Heckerling?"

And there goes the eye contact. "I would have, but she has a curfew."

"As do I."

"Don't worry, Cinderella, I'll have you home before you turn into a pumpkin. And besides, it's in the name of homework. What parent could say no to that?" He tilts his head to the side and gives Cas his most winning smile, the one that talked Preacher Jim out of telling his dad about using the confessional as a make-out booth and Uncle Bobby out of tanning him for stealing the '69 Cobra from the garage for the afternoon.

"I imagine quite a few, if you're involved."

"That doesn't sound like a no."

"No."

"Come on, Cas, why ya gotta be like that? Sam'll come with us, nice and respectable-like. We'll write the skit… thing. I'll have you home before the streetlights come on. It'll be great."

The stare-down this earns him rivals a Clint Eastwood film. Dean is not sure he's going to respond until he does. "Fine, but only if Sam comes with us." Dean can't help but pump his fist in the air in victory. "You are unusually excited about homework."

"Yeah, Cas, that's why I'm excited. Homework."

Castiel says nothing, just looks at Dean like he's a puzzle he can't figure out. Dean can only smile back.

"I thought you said Sam was coming."

Dean turns to Castiel, not moving from the wall he's leaning against. "He's got chess club or mathletes or some other nerd thing. He should be done in ten minutes or so."

Cas steps up to him cautiously, the little wrinkle between his eyebrows fully creased. "You do not like your brother's intellectual pursuits."

Dean scratches the back of his head and smiles fondly at the thought of his nerdy little brother. "Nah, I just like ripping on him. Whatever makes him happy makes me happy, but that's not gonna stop me from teasing him until the day I die. He's my baby brother. It's my job."

"It is no one's job to tease anyone else. You should accept him and his interests without judgment."

"If he didn't get a little ragging from me, how would he know how to handle himself with a real bully? Sammy's my responsibility. I'm not going to slack off teaching him how to protect himself just because it might hurt his little girly feelings." He turns his voice soppy and mocking at the end and crowds Cas against the wall, poking his side teasingly. It makes Cas scowl, but he doesn't pull away, just looks up at Dean with intense disapproval. Something warm shifts in Dean's belly.

"Don't we have more important things to talk about? Like how nice you apparently think my ass is." They're behind the school, secluded from any stray students or staff still lingering on campus. No one would see if Dean were to lean in, take the kiss he's been thinking about since Cas slammed him into that locker a few weeks ago . Cas doesn't look like he'd object—he hasn't stepped away yet, after all, and they're a lot closer than strictly platonically comfortable. He decides to take his chance, leaning in over Cas' lips, almost close enough to touch, but Cas' hand comes up and forcefully pushes him back a foot.

"You have a girlfriend, do you not?"

Dean frowns, not sure what Cas is talking about until he remembers Amanda. It's always hard to remember Amanda when Cas is around. "We might have made out in the janitor's closet a few times, nothing serious. What does that have to do with this?"

"Everything. I do not share. If you are still involved with her—or any other person for that matter—then you will not be permitted to touch me. Is that clear?" Cas' voice is as serious and stern as it had been when he'd shoved Dean and told him not to touch Sam.

"I can't even poke you?" Dean asks, trying for humor. He gently pokes Cas' side, smiling. His finger is snatched and squeezed tight enough to turn his fingertip blue.

"No."

"Okay, then, Cas. Whatever you say." He backs off, holding his hands up in front of him in surrender. Cas doesn't relax against the wall again, but he stops glaring and settles into his normal stare. Dean leans his shoulder against the brick a few feet away. "Since you're not walking away, can I assume you're still up for burgers?"

"Yes, I am still interested in eating burgers and talking about our assignment."

"Good." He looks towards the school and sees Sammy walking their way, looking his usual surly. Dean only hopes Cas will put him in a better mood.


	2. Chapter 2: The Novaks

**Title: **The Trenchcoat Avenger of Truman High

**Author:** rons_pigwidgeon**  
**

**Pairing:** Dean Winchester/Castiel

**Rating: **NC17

**Warnings: **Nothing for now, but later chapters are gonna be chocked full of the sex. You've been warned.

**Chapter Summary: Dean finds a way to break things off with Amanda and spends an unexpectedly pleasant evening at the Novaks.**

**Beta: **bellasauraus

**Author's Note: **Posting this a little bit early because I can. Enjoy!

This chapter contains dialogue taken directly from Supernatural, Season 4 - Episode 13: "After School Special"  
Writing Credits: Eric Kripke (creator), Andrew Dabb (writer), & Daniel Loflin (writer)  
Transcript Used: . ?title=4.13_After_School_Special_%28transcript%29

Thank you to my beta, bellasauraus, for helping me with this chapter, and also for looking up the episode credits so that I didn't have to.

* * *

Jenny isn't Cas, but she isn't Amanda either, and he's never been good at the Talk. Usually, he isn't around long enough to have to have it, but Dad's taking forever and Amanda's getting way too serious for him to feel comfortable. So, there's Jenny. Someone knocks on the door and Dean calls out over his shoulder between kisses, "Five more minutes, Jerry."

The door opens. Not Jerry, then. Good. Better now than later. He pulls away from Jenny and turns to the open door. Amanda's leaning against the jam, looking unimpressed. Dean plasters on his best forced smile and steps out of the closet. "Amanda, hey!" He mutters to the other girl over his shoulder, already knowing Amanda can smell his bullshit, but doing it anyway. "Gettysburg address, 1863, right?" He turns back to Amanda, shrugging. "History test next period. We're studying." The girl slips out past him. Amanda still looks unimpressed. "Come on, baby. She means nothing to me. Don't be mad."

Amanda steps back and shakes her head. "I'm not mad, Dean. I thought maybe... underneath your whole 'I could give a crap,' bad-boy thing, that there was something more going on. I mean, like the way you are with your brother. But I was wrong. You spend so much time trying to convince people that you're cool, but it's just an act. We both know that you're just a sad, lonely little kid. And I feel sorry for you, Dean." She steps back, glaring. Her two bitchy girlfriends are giving him the evil eye from behind her.

Dean's stomach has dropped to his feet, and he feels like he might be sick. "You feel sorry for me, huh? Don't feel sorry for me. You don't know anything about me. I save lives. I'm a hero. A hero!" he retorts. He can tell by the looks the girls give him that he should have kept his mouth shut. There's snickering. He glares after them and turns around, putting his back to the small crowd that had gathered around them. Cas is standing there, head cocked to the side like a confused puppy.

"Hero? Really?" Cas asks, eyebrow raising incredulously.

Dean pulls him aside because the last thing he needs is more public display, only to have Cas slip out from under his arm and pin him to a locker. Again. It isn't hard enough to knock the wind out of him this time, though. That was all Amanda. "What did I tell you, Dean?" Cas growls, body locked in holding Dean up.

"That I couldn't touch you if I had a girlfriend. I don't now," Dean answers, forcing a smirk that he doesn't feel.

Cas stares at him—hard—before letting him go and quietly taking his hand. "Come with me," he says, leading Dean towards the exit.

"But we have English. Are you really suggesting we skip class, Cas? How rebellious of you." Dean can't stop. If he stops, he worries his heart will break all over again. Cas' hand is warm in his, enough to distract him from his embarrassment and shame. Cas ignores him, pulling him quietly through the crowd, ignoring their smirks and insults as well. They leave the building and walk through the parking lot to Cas' car, a beat-up old Fairmont with a cracked taillight and a line of rust all along the bottom edge of the casing. "Jesus, Cas, ever heard of a tune-up?"

Cas turns his head to the side and looks at Dean over the hood of the car, clearly confused. "I get oil changes regularly."

"Yeah, but that taillight's cracked and the rust. Dude, I don't like Fords, but you need to take care of your car."

"It runs. I don't know what to do about the rest."

"I'll help you, if you want."

Cas' mouth twitches upwards. "I would like that." He unlocks the car and gets in before reaching over to unlock Dean's side.

Dean slips inside, eyes on the upholstery, then the dash. "So, where are we going?" he asks.

"To my house. You looked as though you could use a day off."

"Yeah, I guess. You didn't have to skip out, though. I know school means a lot to you."

"Not as much as friendship. And you are my friend, Dean. I know you don't like making lasting connections with your… traveling whatever," he makes a flippant hand gesture as he turns the car on, frowning over at Dean, "and just… being you. But I care about you, and that's not changing, so get used to it."

They're quiet for the rest of the ride to the Novak residence, Dean plucking at the worn threads around the hole in his jeans and thinking about Amanda and what she'd said. He wasn't a little boy. He knew how to take care of himself and his little brother in ways she could never comprehend. And he wasn't scared. He'd killed things she didn't even have names for and that would make her run screaming into the night. He is a hero, even if they'd laughed at him. He hopes one day they face a werewolf or ghost with only him to save them. Then, they'd see.

Cas' voice breaks through his thoughts. "Come on, we're here."

Dean looks up to find them parked in front of a farm house with nothing much around for miles except empty fields. Dean doesn't even remember them leaving town. "This is your house? Kind of a far drive to school, isn't it?"

"Yes. I was homeschooled for my primary school education, but I wanted more social interaction when I reached high school than just the co-op on Fridays. It took a lot of convincing to get my parents to agree to my going to public school, but they eventually consented. I like it."

"Homeschooled, huh? I'm not walking into the Brady Bunch, am I?"

Cas hesitates, half-way between unsure and concerned. "Just… watch your language around my parents. And don't use the Lord's name in vein. Mother will not like you if you do."

Dean gives Cas a long look, lip turning up at one side. "I didn't know you were a Bible-thumper, Cas. That's kind of hot."

Cas rolls his eyes. "I would never disrespect the Bible by hitting it in any manner. My parents are devout Catholics. I have faith, though not to the degree that they do."

Dean shrugs. "Whatever floats your boat, Captain Trenchcoat. We gonna hang out in the car all day or what?"

Cas narrows his eyes and crooks his head to look at Dean as though he cannot fathom him. "You have no faith?"

"Not at all, but to each his own, right?"

"Right." Cas doesn't look convinced.

Dean rubs his hands on his thighs and raises his eyebrows. "So, are we going in or what? Don't get me wrong, I'm cool with sitting here and making out for a couple hours, but your parents might get suspicious."

Cas rolls his eyes and pushes his door open. "You're a pervert. Come on."

They head into the house, where Dean is instructed to take his shoes off as a small blonde girl pokes her head around a corner. "Cassie, yous home! Mommy, Cassie's home!" she shouts, rushing towards them and wrapping herself around Cas' legs with a grin. The grin quickly fades when she notices Dean, and she edges around to Cas' other side, peeking at him behind Cas' knee.

"Hello, Claire. I have a friend I would like you to meet." Cas picks the little girl up and turns to Dean, but the little girl hides her face in his shoulder before Dean can really look at her. Cas rolls his eyes. "Sorry, she's very shy. Claire, this is my friend, Dean. Dean, this is my little sister Claire. She's three."

"Three and a half," the little girl whispers into Cas' shoulder.

Dean smiles and leans over, trying to catch her eye. "Hi, there. It's very nice to meet you, Claire." She peeks at him from Cas' shoulder, but doesn't say anything. Dean's about to try again when footsteps approach from further down the hallway and a woman appears, as blonde as Claire and cautious as she lays eyes on Dean.

"Castiel, sweetie, why are you home? It's the middle of the day. And whom have you brought with you?"

Cas looks to Dean, hesitant. "Hello, Mother. This is my friend, Dean Winchester. A member of his family has died, and I offered to take him home as a… distraction. We will only be missing Physical Education and study hall. Dean, this is my mother, Amelia Novak." Dean would be impressed with the smooth lie rolling off Cas' tongue if he weren't so nervous in the face of meeting his mother.

"Hey," Dean says, shuffling his feet.

Amelia steps up to them, face morphing into a more compassionate expression. "Hello, Dean. I'm sorry to hear about the death. Who was it, if I might ask?"

"My grandma on my dad's side. She'd been sick for a while, but she was awesome and it just kind of… sucks." He shrugs, trying to act like he's holding back his unhappiness. In all honesty, he doesn't really need to reach far for it.

"I'm sorry to hear it. We'll be praying for your family."

"Uh, thanks."

"If you don't mind, Mom, I thought we might go down to the basement and play board games," Cas says, setting Claire on her feet.

"Can I play, too?" Claire asks, tugging at Cas' trench coat.

"I don't…" Cas starts to say, but Dean's already leaning down to her level.

"Sure, sweetheart. You can be on my team," he tells her, smiling warmly. Claire hides behind Cas' coat again, but she's smiling this time.

"That's very nice of you, Dean, but it isn't necessary. Claire can stay up here and help Mommy bake bread for dinner, can't she?" Amelia says, looking down at Claire. Claire turns her eyes to her mother and nods, but she looks sad about it.

"It's okay Mrs. Novak; I love kids. If Cas is cool with her hanging out with us, then I am," Dean says.

Castiel nods his ascent and points down the hall. "We'll be in the basement, Mom." He picks Claire up and follows Dean down the hall, pointing to a door at the end. Dean hesitates at the door, waving awkwardly at Mrs. Novak before escaping down the dark stairs. Fuck, he hates parents.

The light flickers on, revealing a finished basement full of couches, toys, a kitchen table, and more books than a small library could hold. "Were you going to turn the lights on? How can you walk down the stairs without seeing them?"

Dean blinks up at Cas, not understanding. He walks into dark basements all the time. He shrugs and collapses onto one of the couches. "What's with the table? You eat dinner down here?"

"Mom teaches down here. Our house was built in 1897. None of the rooms upstairs are large enough for the space we need when all of us are studying at once."

"All of you? There are more than just you two?"

Cas sets Claire on her feet and goes to a tall bookshelf stuffed full with board games. Claire sits on the couch near Dean, but not within touching distance. She watches him quietly as he watches Cas. "I have six siblings," Cas explains as he joins them a minute later with a board game. Dean had thought Cas was kidding. He hasn't played a board game since Sam was eight. This one they definitely never played, even though half the shitty motels they stay in have it. "Candyland?"

Cas gives Dean a death look that brooks no argument. "I honestly didn't think you would care, and Claire likes this game. Don't you, Claire?"

She's perked up in her seat and is grinning from ear to ear. "I want to be the wed person!" she squeals, sliding off the couch to kneel across the coffee table from Cas. Dean follows suit, because really, what else can he do in the face of Cas' glare and the over-exuberant look on his little sister's face?

"Well, alright. I've never played before, though," he offers, turning to Claire. "Think you could teach me, Claire?"

She clams up, slinking closer to Cas, excitement fading. Dean looks over at Cas. "Well, someone's going to have to teach me." Cas does, smiling a tiny smile to himself. They make it through two games before Claire is bored and demands they play Go Fish. By now, she has gotten comfortable enough to worm her way into Dean's lap and has been picking his cards and moving his game piece for him for the last-half of the game while Dean asks her questions about her favorite picture books and blatantly ignores Cas' surprised looks when he can name all the Richard Scarry characters.

Cas gets the Go Fish cards and starts dealing. Go Fish Dean knows, although he's never played with actual Go Fish cards before, just an old deck of poker cards his dad kept in his duffle. He picks his cards up and pairs up the two matches, then helps Claire pick up hers and tries to show her how to match hers up, too. She's less successful. They are about to play when the basement door creeks open and footsteps hurry down the stairs. A blond boy a few years older than Claire appears, but stops when he lays eyes on Dean.

"Mom said you were home from school. I didn't believe her when she said you had a friend over."

"Very funny, Thomas. This is my friend, Dean Winchester. Dean, this is my brother Thomas."

Dean nods at him, unable to wave with both his and Claire's cards in his hands. "Hey."

"Hi," Thomas says hesitantly. Dean watches him walk slowly closer, trying to get a glance at what they're playing. "Go Fish?"

"Yeah, you wanna join us?" Dean asks because why not? Claire takes her cards from him and compresses them in her little hands until she can only see the top card, making him smile. Sammy used to do that.

Thomas kneels at the table, looking at Dean like he might be an alien. "You're really Castiel's friend?"

"I am, indeed."

"But, I didn't think you had any friends, Cas." Thomas turns to Cas, who gives him the same death glare he'd already served to Dean.

"In case you were wondering, Dean, Thomas is seven years old and still sucks his thumb. Can we play the game, now, or should I reshuffle to include the thumb-sucker?"

Dean grins. Bitchy Cas is definitely his favorite Cas. Thomas shoves Cas' shoulder and pouts for a minute, but he quickly gets over it once Claire starts asking Cas if he has a purple puffer fish. "So, there are seven of your guys?" Dean asks as he hands over his hammerhead to Cas.

"Yep! Claire's the youngest, then Phillip, then me, then Jacob, then Elizabeth, then Castiel, then Christine," Thomas informs him, bouncing on his heels.

"Your parents know how that happens, right?" Dean asks, giving Cas a meaningful look.

Cas rolls his eyes, but Thomas answers before he can. "Yep! God came down and put His hands on Mommy's tummy and made each one of us. Isn't that neat?"

"Neat." Dean looks at Cas, who looks back without saying anything. Dean knows they've been staring too long when Claire shoves her cards in his face.

"Do you have any goldfish?"

"I do in fact have a goldfish. How did you know?" He slides the card from his hand and tucks it into hers.

"I guessed!" They continue playing until half-way through round three, Claire gets bored and wanders off to play kitchen, coming back with 'tea' for everyone just as Cas is setting up Monopoly and another set of footsteps descend the stairs.

"Mom wants to know if Dean is staying for dinner. Who's Dean?" an older girls asks, peering at them from under the ceiling. She's got Cas' blue eyes and dark hair, but she's still too awkward-looking to be gorgeous yet.

"Dean is my friend, Elizabeth. Come down, and I will introduce you."

Elizabeth takes one look at Dean, and her eyes get as wide as coasters. Dean winks at her, enjoying the flush it causes. "Oh, um… I need to tell Mom…"

"Dean, would you like to stay for dinner?"

Dean freezes, not having realized until just then that it's late enough for dinner to be had. "I uh… I gotta call Sammy. We didn't tell him we were leaving. He might be wondering where I am."

Cas' brows furrow. "Do you think he was able to get home all right? Do we need to go pick him up?"

"No, I'm sure he figured it out. He knows how to catch the bus. I'll just call him though, okay?"

"He could come to dinner, as well, if you like. We can go get him at the motel."

"The motel?" asks Thomas, clearly confused.

"This isn't your conversation, Thomas."

"No, I think he'll be fine. Let me go… call him. I'll be right back." Dean gets up and takes the stairs two at a time, sliding past Elizabeth with a sly smile. "Tell your mom I would love to stay for dinner," he tells her, already fishing his phone out of his pocket. He pulls the antenna up, frowns when he can't get a signal, wanders closer to the front door, but still no. "Hey, can I borrow your phone? Mine doesn't have any bars," he asks as Elizabeth walks past. She stares at him, nods, and points to the phone sitting on the side table across the hall. Dean smiles his most winning smile and picks the phone up and starts dialing Sam's number.

"Hello?" Sam's voice picks up.

"Hey Sammy, you okay? Cas and I left school early, and I forgot to tell you."

"Dean? Yeah, I'm fine. Barry saw you guys leave and told me. Are you coming back soon?"

"I'm sort of at Cas' house. They want me to stay for dinner. You'll be okay by yourself, right?"

"Wait, you're having dinner at Cas'? With his family? But I thought you didn't do parents."

Dean feels the sudden urge to stick his hand through the phone line and smack his brother upside the head. "Shuddup. It's Cas."

"What are you guys doing over there? Did you meet his brothers and sisters yet? Are there crosses all over the house?" Dean looks around the hallway. He hadn't noticed before, but yeah, there are a lot of crosses. There's a crucifix practically staring him in the face, and a framed picture of Jesus with a quote from the New Testament next to the phone base. Huh. Cas wasn't lying about the religious thing, then.

"Yeah, but it's fine. We've been playing board games in the basement."

"Who are you and what have you done with my brother?"

"Watch it, short stack." He glances up and sees Elizabeth watching him from one of the doorways. She has that weird glassy eyed look freshmen girls get when they look at him, but he doesn't think she's old enough to be in high school yet. He grins at her and turns his back on her, lowering his voice a little. "Listen, Sammy, I gotta go. There's still a couple burritos in the fridge if you're hungry. I don't know when I'll get back, so don't wait up."

"Okay, Dean. Have fun."

"You, too. I'll see you later." He waits until Sammy says goodbye before hanging up. Elizabeth is still staring, but she goes wide-eyed when he catches her and disappears behind the doorframe. From the smells that are coming his way, he guesses it's the kitchen. He slips back into the basement to find another younger boy sitting in his spot. This one is blond and Dean guesses a year or two older than Thomas.

"Jacob has been playing in your stead. I hope you don't mind," Cas tells him, scooting over so that Dean can sit next to him. The new boy hands Dean a stack of Monopoly money and points to the iron 'just visiting' the jail. Dean tries not to lament not getting to be the car.

"Thanks, Jacob. I'm Dean."

"Hey," Jacob says without looking at him. Dean settles into the game, enjoying himself despite being the lame-ass iron, because now he gets to touch Cas whenever he wants and no one else can see. He has his hand curled over Cas' knee under the table when Elizabeth comes back down and announces dinner. He pulls away as they all get up, but Cas brushes fingers across his lower back as they ascend the stairs, so there's that.

Cas gets his eyes and hair from Roger Novak, but that is where the resemblance stops. Roger Novak is stiff and stern, both like and unlike Dean's own father, his stiffness born of a belief of moral superiority and judgment upon others rather than military service and personal tragedy. He questions Dean about everything from his family to his living arrangement to his grades to which church he attends. For the most part, Dean lies through his teeth where he can and tries to give one-word answers while Cas brushes his thigh under the table and smiles encouragingly at him.

When he starts in on colleges, Dean has to correct him. He can lie about a lot of things, but a college boy he is not. "I'm not going to college, sir. I'm going to be a mechanic like my father."

"You're comfortable with blue-collar work, then?"

"Absolutely, sir. This country was built on blue-collar work. I don't see anything wrong with it. Besides, I love cars, and I'm real good at fixing them. And it's steady work, no matter where you live. Everyone's car breaks down eventually. I'd say Cas' car's maybe 10,000 miles from needing new breaks, and his tires are less than that from needing to be replaced."

"How do you know that?" Cas asks, face morphing into concern.

"I could tell driving here. I told you you need to take care of your car, dude."

Cas frowns, but doesn't disagree. Roger is looking hard at Dean, a look that might have intimidated Dean if his own father wasn't John Winchester. "We will have to take Castiel's car in for service soon, then. Thank you." He turns to Elizabeth and asks how her studies are going, a welcome subject change. Dean survives the rest of dinner, and he and Cas escape downstairs quickly after. None of the younger Novak's follow, all being forced to clean up and get ready for bed.

"You're dad's a piece of work, Cas."

"Father can be stern, but he means well. And I think he approves of you, so that's good."

"Does he know about you being…" Dean trails off, not sure for the first time if Cas even is gay. Yeah, he's touched Dean and implied that Dean would be allowed to kiss him now that he was unattached, but he could be reading the situation wrong.

"Gay?" Cas finishes for him, voice soft as his eyes dart up to the closed basement door.

"Yeah, that."

"No. None of my family know except Christine, my older sister. She goes to Georgetown University. What about your family?"

A small ball of panic appears in Dean's throat. "No, definitely not. Dad's old-school military. I… yeah, no, that's not a conversation we're ever having."

"My parents are deeply religious and believe homosexuality is a sin, which is why I am confident they would not accept me if I were to tell them. What makes you believe that you father would not accept you?"

Dean picks at the arm of the couch, mulling his answer over. There are a lot of factors that contribute to his knowing his father is homophobic. But there was the first time… "Ryan Thompson, third grade. He had dark hair like yours, and he liked to wrestle during recess. One day, he pulled me behind the jungle gym and kissed me. It wasn't my first kiss or anything, but it was… better than all the other kisses I'd gotten. I really liked him, like liked him liked him. I went home and told my dad about it. I remember being really excited because Ryan was cute, and he knew about hunting and guns because he went hunting with his dad like I did, and he was just all around cool, and I was excited. It never occurred to me that there might be something wrong with liking a boy. But my dad…" He shakes his head, flashes of the fight John had put up, the feel of his palm forcing itself into Dean's cheek for the first time. "He didn't react well, let's just say that. We moved towns immediately, and I tried to stop thinking about Ryan."

"And did you?"

"What, stop thinking about him? Not really. I didn't talk about it, though, and I didn't mention any crushes on boys after that. I even started making an effort to pursue girls more than I probably would have. I mean, I like girls just as much as guys, but I don't know. Dad gets off my ass with the queer comments if he sees me making out with a chic as often as possible."

"Is that why you were seeing Amanda Heckerling?"

"Amanda? No, she's hot. And she wears the best-tasting lip gloss I've ever tasted. I didn't expect us to be here this long, though. Even if I hadn't met you, I probably would have dumped her. Commitment doesn't really… work with my life. She started asking too many questions. Dad wouldn't have liked it. Not that he's going to like this, if he ever finds out about us."

"I wasn't aware that there was an 'us', but I understand what you mean. I do not believe my family would appreciate a relationship outside of friendship between you and I either."

"So you're never coming out?"

Cas shakes his head, his body gravitating closer to Dean's. They both look to the basement stairs as he settles into the crook of Dean's arm and pulls his knees up to his chest. "I do not believe that would be wise. While I've never told my parents about my… interests, I have always known they would not accept the news of my orientation easily."

"How'd you figure it out?"

"I think I always knew I was different. I chased the little boys around the way the other little boys chased the little girls around at Sunday school. I tried to kiss Michael Rathborne at a church picnic when we were seven. Thankfully, he told our parents I hit him instead."

"Have you ever had a boyfriend?" Dean asks, not sure why he even wants to know.

Cas looks up at Dean with a mischievous smile. "Why do you want to know?"

"Curiousity. Also, I'd like to know who I need to glare at at school tomorrow."

"Jealous?"

"Very." Dean is close to kissing him, already leaning in, but Cas' hand presses to his chest to hold him off.

"You said that you do not like commitment. If I were to permit you to… touch me, I would need you to commit to me, even if only in private."

Dean deflates a little. "Cas, I can't. I don't even know how long I'll be in town for. Dad's close to finishing up his job, and we always move on after the job's done."

"You would not wish to maintain contact after you leave?"

"Of course, Cas, but I don't know when I'd be able to get back to see you. And I can't just… not sleep around. Dad'll start…" He clenches his jaw, trying not to think about what John would do.

Castiel studies him for a lot longer than is normal. Eventually, he settles his head on Dean's shoulder and lays a hand on his knee. "I understand. Perhaps we could compromise?"

"Yeah, sure. What kind of compromise?"

Cas traces designs on Dean's knee. "We stay in contact. We try to see each other when we can. While we're physically together, we are monogamous. When we are apart, we may see other people, but we cannot talk about it to each other. You do not tell me about the girls you sleep with. I do not tell you if I start dating. And nothing we do outside of each other is allowed to get serious."

"That works for me. That sounds awesome, actually. Let's do that."

"Okay."

"So, can I kiss you, then?" Dean asks, running his fingers through Cas' hair. It's as soft as he had thought it would be.

"No."

"What?" Dean frowns, fingers pausing.

"Not in my parents' house."

Dean nods and gets back to combing through Cas' hair. They're quiet for a while, and Dean tries to ignore the fact that he's cuddling with a dude in a basement while the dude's super-religious family gets ready for bed upstairs.

"It's getting late. I should take you home before my parents start asking if you're spending the night."

"I could," Dean wheedles, smirking.

Cas crinkles his forehead in a frown. "No, you cannot."

"Dude, I was kidding."

"Well, either way, I should be taking you home. Come on." He stands, pulling Dean up with him by the hand. Dean goes reluctantly. Despite himself, he thinks he might have liked to stay curled up with Cas on the couch until the world ends. Mrs. Novak meets them at the door, a book Dean recognizes as one of those Bible scripture books for moms bookmarked in her hand.

"It was nice to meet you, Dean. Please tell your family that we will pray for them." They had already prayed for them at dinner, much to Dean's discomfort. He nodded, smiling awkwardly.

"Thanks, Mrs. Novak. It was nice to meet Cas' family. You all are really great."

"Thank you, Dean." She smiles warmly at him and squeezes his arm. Cas turns the doorknob, but Mrs. Novak looks momentarily surprised and stops them. "Wait, I almost forgot. I have cookies for your family. Let me go get them." She disappears into the kitchen only to come back a second later with a paper plate piled high with chocolate chip cookies and covered in shrink wrap. Dean grins and takes it gratefully. Sammy loves homemade cookies.

"Thanks, Mrs. Novak. You really didn't need to do that. My brother will love these."

"It's the least we could do. Take care of yourself, Dean. We hope to see you back soon." She squeezed his arm again and went back into the living room. Cas tugged his jacket arm until he followed him outside to the Fairmont. The drive back into town was quiet, Dean fiddling with the radio dial to find an acceptable station. Dean directs him to the right parking space at the motel, but he only gets out when Cas does.

"You coming with, then?"

"No, but hugging inside a car is uncomfortable," Cas answers, meeting him at the front of the car and standing on tip-toe to wrap his arms around Dean's neck. Dean sinks into the hug, pressing his face into Cas' shoulder, fingers clenching Cas' stupid too-big trench coat. Cas turns his head and kisses him, soft and chaste and way too brief before he pulls away. "I'll see you before class tomorrow?"

"Yeah, of course. Tell your mom thanks for the cookies." Dean picks them up from where he left them on the hood of the car, still a little unbalanced from Cas' touch.

"Tell Sam I said hello. I'll see you tomorrow." He reaches up again and kisses Dean's cheek before heading back to the car. Dean watches him pull away, his heart thumping harder than it had since he bagged his first werewolf two years ago. He turns to the motel door once the Fairmont is out of sight. Thankfully, Sammy's already asleep and not up asking a million and four questions like usual. He sets the cookies on top of Sam's books on the table and falls into bed, head full of nothing but Cas.

Dean is walking to class with Cas, clenching his fist at every snicker as they pass. Cas doesn't appear to have noticed anything. He is just turning to say something to him when Dean's phone starts ringing. Dean grabs the phone from his back pocket and flips it open. "Dad? Hey, yeah. All right, we'll be ready." He flips it closed again and shoves it back into his pocket. The bell has already rung, but Cas is watching him, not moving towards the classroom.

"Was that your father?"

"Yeah, Dad's uh… done, with his job. We're heading out today after school. I gotta find Sammy to tell him."

"He is in chemistry. We will see him at lunch. We should go to class."

"Why would I bother going to class? I'm leaving at the end of the day."

Cas doesn't appear to hear him as he grabs Dean's sleeve and pulls him to the classroom door, giving him no choice but to follow. Dean can do nothing but hiss 'Cas!' and allow himself to be dragged. The teacher gives them a glare, but doesn't comment on the tardiness.

Sam is waiting on the curb, pouting and looking up at his squirrelly friend, Barry, watching from an upstairs window. Dean turns to look down at Castiel, upset for the first time that he's having to leave. He hates this school, but Cas… Cas is looking up at him with an extra-serious face. "Well, Dad's going to be here any minute…"

"You are going to call me. And email me. And when you can, you are going to come here and see me. This is not negotiable." Cas shoves a piece of paper in Dean's shirt pocket, pushing him up against the brick archway and reaching up on his toes to shove his mouth against Dean's. Dean groans in surprise and reaches for Cas, trying to pull him in the way he's used to, but Cas bites his lip and pulls at his hair, forcing him to submit. His tongue is hot against Dean's, and he tastes like the most delicious piece of pie Dean has ever had. By the time Cas pulls away, Dean's wobbly kneed and breathing way too hard from just a kiss.

"Damn, Cas, kiss me like that again, and you'll need to make an honest man of me." Cas looks inordinately pleased with himself.

"Dean—Dad," Sam calls from the curb.

Dean and Cas both turn to see the Impala turning the corner. Cas glares up at Dean. "Call me."

"Yeah, Cas. I'll call. Later." Dean wants to kiss him again, but Dad's pulled up to the curb, and he doesn't need to know about Dean's… other interest. Cas pokes him like he understands and points to the car. Dean walks away, glancing at Cas over the hood when he gets to the passenger side. He can't do much else but wave before he gets in.

Amanda Heckerling has never willingly spoken to Castiel in her life, despite having shared CCD classes with him—and once a desk—since the age of six. The day after Dean and Sam Winchester leave Sioux City, she is waiting for him at his locker. Castiel had not even been aware that she knew where his locker was.

"Hello, Amanda," he says warily.

"Hey, Castiel. Jenny said she saw Dean and Sam leave with their dad. Is he really gone?" she asks, causing Castiel to frown.

"You verbally attacked him and broke up with him. Why would it matter to you whether or not he has left the school?"

She blows air through her nose and shuffles against the lockers. "It just does, okay? Is he gone or not?"

"Yes, his father has completed his job, and they have gone. I do not expect them to return. Why?"

Amanda frowns and looks down at her shoes. "Jenny also said she saw you kissing him right before he left."

"That is true. Again, why is this of import to you? You broke up with him."

"He cheated on me."

"With Jennifer Wolfe, your friend, if I understand the situation correctly."

"Yeah, well, I just… was he hooking up with you, too? Jenny is… Jenny, but you're… a guy. Dean didn't really strike me as gay."

"He isn't. He is bisexual. No, he was not kissing me at the same time as he was kissing you. He tried, but I would not permit him to touch me while he also touched you. I still do not understand why you consider this necessary for discussion. You are no longer seeing him, and he has moved away."

"I just wanted to know. Sorry I asked." She walks away, glaring at him over her shoulder. Castiel has a feeling she will never willingly speak to him again. He is not upset over the loss.


	3. Chapter 3: Phone Tag

**Title: **The Trenchcoat Avenger of Truman High

**Author:** rons_pigwidgeon**  
**

**Pairing:** Dean Winchester/Castiel

**Rating: **NC17

**Warnings: **Nothing for now, but later chapters are gonna be chocked full of the sex. You've been warned.

**Chapter Summary: **Dean and Cas spend their time apart learning more about each other over the phone.

**Author's Note: **Possible triggers for child abuse. It's mild and mostly falls in line with what has already been shown in the show, but still thought I'd warn. This chapter ended up a lot more emotional than I anticipated. I don't think I'm sorry about it, though.

This chapter contains some dialogue paraphrased from Supernatural, Season 9 - Episode 7: "Bad Boys"br /  
Writing Credits: Eric Kripke (creator) Adam Glass (writer)

* * *

"Alright, you boys good for now?" John asks, slinging his duffel over his shoulder. Dean looks to Sam, internally sighing as he sees Sam's face fall. He knew their dad would be leaving. They didn't come to Utah for no reason. There's a string of murders in the mountains north of town that need solving. They're set up for school. There's food in the fridge. Dean's got the bus schedule. There's no other reason for him to stay.

"We're good," Dean answers. John nods and turns towards the door.

"Alright, watch out for each other. And Dean?" He turns, narrows in on Dean. "No skipping school this time, got it? You're on thin ice as it is. I don't want to come back to a truancy officer, got it?"

Dean rubs his eyes, nodding. "Yes, sir."

"Bye, Dad," Sam offers in a fading voice.

John gives him a half-smile. "See you later, boys. Call me if you need anything."

Sam turns to Dean as the door closes behind their dad, frowning. "He couldn't stay for a day?"

"You know how it is, Sammy. People are dying. I want him here as much as you do, but he has a job to do."

"I know. I'd just like to have him around once in a while."

"Yeah, I get it, Sammy. Wanna go get a pizza later?"

"Sure, I guess. Wanna watch tv?"

"Yeah, sure. You pick whatever. I'm gonna make a quick call." Dean wants to hang out with his little brother, he does, but he's been thinking about the piece of paper in his shirt pocket for days, and this is his first opportunity to use it out of earshot of John. He doesn't necessarily want to hide anything from his dad, but this just... feels like something private. Sam slumps onto the couch and turns the tv on, giving Dean a sullen look he plans to wipe off Sam's puppy face as soon as he's off the phone, but for now he takes out his cell and heads to the bathroom to lean against the sink and fish out the slip of paper. It's a post-it note with Cas' impeccable handwriting. Cursive—_who writes in cursive after the third grade?_—all loopy and elegant like he's in a Dickens novel. Dean can only just make out the numbers, and he's never even seen an email address in cursive before. He dials the number and hits send after staring at it for half a minute, wondering if this is right.

"_Hello?_" a boy's voice asks. It's not Cas, but maybe Jacob?

"Hey, uh, is Cas around?"

"_Whom may I say is calling?_"

"Uh... Dean. Dean Winchester."

"_CASTIEL! DEAN WINCHESTER'S ON THE PHONE!"_ the boy shouts, thankfully away from the phone. Dean hears footsteps and murmuring.

"_Thank you, Phillip,_" Cas' voice says quietly as the phone exchanges hands. "_Hello, Dean,_" he says into the phone, his voice warm and soft over the line. Dean hadn't realized how much he was missing the sound of Cas' voice until he heard it again.

"Hey," he says. He glances at his reflection in the side wall mirror and is horrified to find himself blushing.

"_I'm relieved to hear your voice. I was beginning to think you had lost the number_."

"Yeah, sorry about that. We've been in the car for the last couple days. I didn't really want to talk with Dad right next to me, you know?"

"_I do. I assume you are out of the car now?_"

"Yeah, we're in a motel for now. Start school back tomorrow. Dad's already off to work. Sammy's bummed about it, but we gotta eat somehow, right?"

"_Yes, a means of feeding oneself and one's family is important. Where are you?_"

"Some backwoods town in Utah. Price or something? I don't know."

"_Are there mountains?_"

"Yeah, I think I can see them from the window."

"_I've never seen mountains before. They must be beautiful._" The level of awe in his voice is a little unnerving. Dean's never really thought about it before, that mountains—or any landmark for that matter—could be beautiful.

"I guess. Never traveled anywhere with mountains before?"

_"I've never traveled at all. It's difficult to do with seven children and the farm to take care of. We've taken road trips to Michigan to see my aunt and uncle and their family, but that's it. I would love to travel like you do._"

"Maybe we can take a road trip some time when I get a car."

"_A road trip? Together? I think I would like that. Where would we go?_"

"Wherever you want to go. I've been all over the country." There's a loud crashing sound from the tv, and Dean peaks out around the door to see Sam still curled up on the couch, looking as sullen as ever. "Hey, how about you think about where you want to go, and we'll talk about it tomorrow? I've got a sulky Sammy on the couch, and I gotta spend some time with him, or he'll be impossible to deal with in the morning."

"_Of course, Dean. Does that mean you will call tomorrow?_"

"Yeah, 'course. You got anything going on after school? I could call then."

"_I have chess club until 4:30. It would be better if you called after dinner, though. I currently have three siblings attempting to listen in on this conversation. If you were to call after dinner, they would all be too busy getting ready for bed to eavesdrop._"

Dean chuckles, imagining the scene. "Why you wanna be alone, Cas? You gonna whisper dirty things in my ear?"

"_Perhaps. I would at least like the option._"

All the blood in his body suddenly and dramatically travels to his dick. "Yeah, I definitely want you to have that option, too. How about _you_ call _me_ when the coast is clear?"

"_I do not have your phone number._"

"Got a pen?"

"_I do._"

Dean gives him the number, and he reads it back to make sure he has it correct. Ever the perfectionist. Dean wonders if he wrote it in cursive. Could you write numbers in cursive? "Can you write numbers in cursive?" he asks.

Cas laughs. "_Not in the traditional cursive that is taught in schools, but perhaps in calligraphy. Why?_"

"Just wondering. Talk to you tomorrow, then?"

"_I look forward to it. Tell Sam hello for me_."

"Will do. Talk to you later." He hangs up, smiling down at the phone as the screen clears, rubbing his thumb over the keyboard. _What am I doing?_ he thinks, shaking his head at himself. He pockets the phone and heads back into the room. Sam watches him make his way over to flop on the couch next to him.

"Who'd you have to call?"

"Your girlfriend."

"_Dean_."

"_Sammy_."

Sam kicks him, making the bitch face of all bitch faces. Dean grabs his leg and twists it behind his butt, making Sam twist almost off the couch, crying out and shoving Dean's shoulder. They wrestle for a little while until Dean finally pins Sam to the back of the couch and holds him there. "Try a little harder next time, small fry," he says, letting go with a hard pat to Sam's back. Sam squirms around until he's sitting on the couch again, pouting. Dean rolls his eyes and gets up to grab a coke. "Stop pouting, you baby. I was just talking to Cas."

"Cas? Castiel Novak?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"Because he doesn't ask me five thousand pointless questions or pout like an eight-year-old."

"I hate you," Sam grumbles, glaring.

"I know you do. Now shut up and watch the movie." Sam huffs, but does as he's told. Dean drinks his coke and tries to concentrate on the movie, but his brain keeps flashing back to Cas.

"_How is your new school_?" Cas asks.

"Boring. If I didn't worry about Sammy, I wouldn't be going anymore."

"_You can't quit. Having a high school diploma is important._"

"And why is that, Cas? Did you forget the part where I'm not going to college?"

"_Where do you plan to take your automotive engineering courses? Community colleges require at least a GED._"

Dean rolls his eyes, grateful Cas can't see him. "I was going to work for Bobby. He doesn't care if I have a diploma or a GED."

"_Dean_."

"Cas."

There's a very loud sigh of resignation on the other end. Dean can sense Cas' frustration from across the country. "_You're just bating me, aren't you? You won't leave school until you have no other choice._ _Sam's still there_."

"You have a point. I don't know if I'll have much more of a choice, though. They almost didn't let me into this one. My grades aren't exactly awesome."

"_Oh._" The line goes quiet, and Dean's just about to ask how the Novaks are doing when Cas speaks again. "_If you do not finish your senior year, will you at least get your GED? I know it isn't important to you, but I would feel better knowing you had it to fall back on if you need to later. I'm sure Sam would agree with me._"

"Cas..."

"_Please, Dean?_"

Dean rubs at his forehead and pinches his mouth closed. Eventually, he caves. "Yeah, Cas, I'll get my GED. You better give me a really good reward for it, though. _Really good_."

"_Don't worry, I'm sure I can think of something_." His voice goes all deep and gravely in a way that sets Dean's whole body on fire. Dean has to adjust his jeans uncomfortably and block out thoughts about Cas rewarding him. Sam's in the room for fuck's sake. Sam gives him a wary look from the other side of the room before going back to his book. Dean's going to make him put it away as soon as he's off the phone with Cas, and they're going to watch some tv for a while. He's done nothing but read since they left Indiana.

"Anything new on your end? How's Claire doing?"

Cas' mood shifts and Dean can hear the smile now. "_She is fine. She asks me about you constantly. She hasn't quite come to understand that you no longer live here. My mother is confused by her insistence that you come visit again._"

"I'm not. I'm pretty irresistible."

"_Yes, you're like a car accident in that way._"

"Watch it. Insults might get you laid."

"DEAN," Sam says urgently, glaring.

Dean just laughs at him and waves him off. "Pull the stick out, Sammy. I was only kidding."

"_You are a pervert,_" Cas confirms.

"Thanks, Cas."

"_You're welcome._"

Dean doesn't want to hang up, but he doesn't really have anything else to talk about that doesn't involve telling Cas about the ghost twins they salted and burned last week, and he knows he can't talk about that. Even if it was totally badass. "I should probably let you get back to studying. I need to take Sammy's book away and make him do something normal and not nerdy anyway." This earns him another glare from Sam, who pulls his book closer and turns his shoulder away from Dean.

Cas chuckles softly. "_Alright. I'll talk to you soon, I guess._"

"I'll call you tomorrow?"

"_Tomorrow it is, then. Good night_."

"Night, Cas." He hangs up and gets up, stalking over to the bed Sam's camped out on and snatching the book from him. Sam jumps him to try and grab it back, but he's too short to reach, and Dean just laughs at him.

"DEAN! Give it back!"

"Try again, short stack. Let's watch the game. You need to de-nerd for a while."

Sam smacks his stomach and scowls. "I hate you."

"Yeah, yeah, come on." He grabs Sam around the neck and pulls him over to the couch. The book gets forgotten within a few minutes.

"_Hello?_" a tiny voice says into his ear. He grins even though no one but Sam's around to see him.

"Hey Claire-bear. Do you know who this is?" he asks.

"_I don't think so. Who are you?"_

"It's Dean, Castiel's friend?"

"_Dean!_"she squeals, and he can hear her little feet jumping up and down on the hall carpet. "_Hi, Dean! I missed you! When are you coming back to see us? Castiel misses you, too, and Elizabeth has been asking about you, and I made a picture of Jesus for you, and I learned how to hold my cards up all by myself, so you have to come and play Go Fish with me and..._"

Dean knows if he doesn't stop her, she'll go on for forever, so he clears his throat. "I'm really proud of you. Did you have Cas teach you? I wish I could come and play with you, but I'm all the way in Arizona."

"_Where's Arizona?_"

"Far, far away from where you are. Maybe when school gets over I'll drive back and visit for a while. Would you like that?"

"_YES! You can bring your sleeping bag and sleep on my floor, and we can have a slumber party, and maybe Mommy will make cookies, and we can play Candyland and Hungry Hungry Hippos and Go Fish_."

"_Who are you talking to, Claire?_" Dean hears Cas' voice coming up to the phone. He glances over at Sam, who has the most bewildered face on, staring at him over his homework.

"_Dean! He's going to come see us when school's out and we're going to have a sleepover!_"

"_Is that right? Would you mind if I talk to him?_"

"_Okay. Bye, Dean!_" Claire shouts into his ear. Dean winces, but manages to say goodbye back to her before Cas' voice takes her over.

"_Hello, Dean_."

"Hey, Cas."

"_I hope you plan on making good on your promise to Claire. I can hear her already telling my mother all about your visit_."

"I'm going to try. I don't really have a car of my own, but I'm trying to get some money together to buy a fixer-upper."

"_You know how to build a car from the frame up?_"

"Yeah, probably. I haven't had the chance to try yet, but I bet I could. Why?"

"_I believe I might find that an... attractive trait._" Cas' voice dips at the admission.

"You're an attractive trait," Dean replies, smirking. Sam clenches his jaw and glares at him. Dean just smirks wider and flicks him off.

"_Did I hear Claire say you were in Arizona?_"

"That's right, for a couple weeks now. I think we'll be moving on soon, though."

"_They have excellent antique cars, if I understand correctly. The dry air preserves their engines better._"

"Yeah, less rust, too, without the salt when it snows."

"_Would you possibly try to purchase something while you're there, and restore it?_"

"Would it turn you on if I did?"

"_I believe I would like to watch you work._"

"Well, I'll just have to wait until I can have you around to watch, won't I?"

"_You will_."

Dean doesn't follow Sammy into the house they're squatting at, deciding to call Cas instead. It's been a few days—he's been putting it off because he knows Cas won't like his news—but he can't ignore the need to talk to his friend anymore. He pulls the phone out of his coat pocket and dials. Elizabeth answers, nervous as soon as she hears Dean's name, and has Cas on the phone within seconds. "_Hello, Dean. It's good to hear your voice._"

"Yeah? You miss me?"

"_I always miss talking to you. How are you?_"

"I uh... I've got some news. I don't think you're going to like it."

"_Oh?_"

"Yeah, I've got good news and bad news. Which you want?"

"_Bad first. Hopefully the good will make up for it if the good is told afterwards._"

"I'm officially a drop-out. When we switched schools this time, they wouldn't let me in, said my grades showed I had 'no interest in furthering my education'. Dad didn't even try to argue."

"_You're father cares so little for your education that he did not even attempt to force the school to permit your attendance?_"

"I'm eighteen now. They said I was a legal adult and they weren't required to take me."

"_And this doesn't bother you?_"

"Not really. School was just a waste of time for me anyway. It's not like I paid attention or anything. Now I have time to help Dad work."

"_You aren't going to get your GED, then? I recall your making me a promise._"

"I'll get it eventually. Sam's been trying to talk me into getting a job so we can get money the 'honest way', but I don't see anything wrong with hustling pool."

"_I thought your father worked._"

_Shit_. Dean hesitates before answering. "He does, but he uh... he doesn't get paid a lot for what he does."

"_What does he do, exactly? You said he's a mechanic, but I've never heard of a traveling mechanic._"

"You haven't asked me what the good news is," Dean says, hoping to deter him. He really doesn't have a good answer to Cas' question.

"_I am going to pretend you did not just deflect my question and ask what the good news is._"

"Dad gave me the Impala for my birthday."

"_You're father makes no effort to keep you in school, and then gives you a car as a reward? This makes very little sense to me, Dean._" Cas' tone is suspicious and maybe a little angry, though Dean can't figure out why.

Dean's heart sinks. He had been hoping Cas would be excited. With the Impala, he could visit now. They could go on road trips together. He might even be able to convince his pious friend to have sex in the back. But Cas didn't sound happy. Dean thought he might be a step away from insulting John, which was not something Dean could tolerate, even from Cas. "He said it was a rite of passage. I'm a man now, and I should have something to show for it."

"_And a diploma wouldn't have been a more befitting prize._"

"Dude, why do you even care? You've only known me for like three months. "

"_Dean, I have already explained to you that I care about you. You are such an intelligent person, Dean. I want you to reach your full potential. I worry that you are going to have a much more difficult time in life without a high school diploma. Will you promise me that you will at least get your GED? I know you said you would before, but I will not feel content until I know that you will._"

"If it means that much to you, sure. I'll get my diploma. I don't get what the big deal is, though. I'm not like you, Cas. I'm not smart enough to go to college, and even if I was, we can't afford it. And who would take care of Sammy while I did?"

"_Dean Winchester, you are smart enough to do anything you set your mind to. I cannot stand how self-deprecating you are. Do you know how brilliant you are? You could have been an honor roll student if you had paid even a moment of attention. With your upbringing, you could have qualified for enough scholarships and financial aid to pay for college in full. I would have helped you. I already have preliminary research on several colleges that would have worked with you."_

Dean clenches the hand not holding the phone around the steering wheel, gripping tight enough to ache. He just wants Cas to shut up about college and talk about something else, but he knows Cas isn't going to give this up. "What about Sammy?" he asks, because there's no way Cas can have an answer for him.

"_Why doesn't your father take care of your brother? He's an adult, and Sam is his child, not yours. He should already be doing that. He should be taking care of both of you._"

"He can't. He has to work."

"_Then Sam can live with you. There are scholarships that include a housing stipend._"

Dean pulls his hand from the steering wheel and pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to hold back the frustration and anger that's bubbling. He's never been mad at Cas before, but all this college talk is too much. "Yeah, and I'm sure I'd get those. Thanks for caring, Cas, but I'm good. College isn't for me. I'll get my GED if it'll make you happy, but I uh... I gotta go, okay? We just got in, and I gotta get Sammy some dinner. Call you tomorrow?"

"_Okay. You promise you'll call?_"

"Yeah, Cas, of course I'll call."

"_Until tomorrow, then._"

Dean hangs up without saying goodbye and has to resist the urge to throw the phone. He doesn't need to have to get another one on top of everything else. He gets out of the car and stalks away into the woods surrounding the house. When he steps back out ten minutes later, he's scratched up, red-faced, and blotchy, and there are tears in his eyes, but he feels better. He rubs the moisture from his eyes and takes deep breaths until he feels calm enough to face Sammy without giving anything away. He retrieves his phone and keys from the Impala and walks into the house.

"_Did we have our first fight last night?_"

"Yeah, I think we did."

"_Are you mad at me?_"

"Yeah—no—I don't know. I'm just mad, I guess. Believe it or not, I didn't want to be a high school drop-out."

"_Then, why didn't you fight harder for it? It's like you gave up._"

"I did. There's no point fighting the tide, Cas. I'm not made for school."

"_I don't know why you think being intelligent is a something of which you should be ashamed. Sam tries hard in school. What happened to make you not?"_

Dean sighs, scrubs a hand over his face, and takes a seat on the steps of the house. "I did once. It didn't work out."

"_What happened, Dean?_"

Dean picks at a hole in his jeans, trying to find the words. Should he even tell Cas? What's it going to prove, that he was dumb enough to get himself arrested? That he's a juvenile delinquent? Cas'll never want to talk to him again. _Maybe that's for the best, _he thinks and starts talking. "When I was sixteen, Dad put us up in this cabin in upstate New York so he could go out on a job. I was stupid and lost the food money in a card game. I knew Sammy was gonna get hungry, so I tried for the five-finger discount at the gas station. I got caught and got sent to a boy's home for a couple months. The guy who ran it, Sonny, he's pretty cool, and he kept pushing me to straighten up and fly right. So I did. I was getting good grades. I joined the wrestling team, even won the county wrestling championship. I even had a girlfriend, Robin. I've never told anyone, but she was my first kiss. She taught me how to play guitar, too. She was awesome. We were gonna go to the school dance together and everything."

"_What happened?" _

"Dad came for me. He'd left me there to learn my lesson for losing the food money and stealing, I guess, but the night of the school dance, there he was. Him and Sammy. Sonny offered to let me stay, said he'd fight my dad on it and everything. I really wanted to stay, too. I was finally out, you know? Hell, Sonny didn't even care when I told him I thought I might be bi. He was really a great guy. Told me he was proud of me. No one had ever said that to me before. It was... it was awesome. I was really happy there, you know? If I'd stayed, I'd probably still be in school, might even be thinking about college, who knows."

"_Why didn't you stay? This Sonny sounds like an excellent influence. I know you dislike traveling so much, despite what you might say. You could have had a home._"

"Yeah, but I couldn't leave Sammy, could I? I looked out the window, and there he was, playing with this stupid toy fighter jet we'd found at a truck stop a couple years before. He looked so little, you know? And I couldn't leave him with Dad all alone. Dad needed someone to take care of Sammy when he was gone, and Sammy needed me to protect him." Dean brushes the stupid water from his eyes and wills the tears to stop.

"_Protect him from whom? Your father?"_

Oh course Cas would get right to the heart of things. Reluctantly, Dean mutters, "Yeah..."

There's the loud sound of something hard smacking onto a flat surface, and Cas doesn't say anything for a minute. "_I'm sorry, Dean. I'm so sorry_," he says finally, voice soft and cracking at the edges.

Dean has to find a way to brush it off before Cas starts crying, and he fucking loses it again. "Hey, it's not all bad. If I'd stayed with Sonny, I never would have met you."

"_I'm glad I met you, too, Dean. You are very special to me._" The yawning pit of sadness in Dean's stomach gets a little bit smaller at the warm way Cas says his name, and all his anger and frustration melt away.

"Don't get all gushy on me, Cas. We've had enough girl talk for the night. Tell me what's going on with you."

"_There isn't much to tell, I guess..._" Cas begins telling him about the mundane, his family, school. It's nice—normal—and Dean is able to forget his own problems for just a little while and focus on his friend.

"You've been on that phone a lot, boy. You got a girl I don't know about?"

Dean sputters in his head. He thought he'd been subtle about talking to Cas, calling him mostly when his dad was out, never talking long if Cas called while his dad was there. "No, sir," he answers, because Cas might be a lot of things to him, but a girl he is not.

"Then who is it?"

"Just a friend."

"This 'friend' a hunter?"

"No, Dad, just a high school kid. Met him in Indiana. Sam's friends with him, too."

Sam shoots him a look from across the motel room that screams that Dean should shut his mouth and keep him out of it, but it's too late, even if Dean had been inclined to listen to him. John has turned to Sam, hunched over his homework on the farthest bed. "That true?"

"Yes, sir. I had study hall with Cas. He's a nice guy."

"How come you aren't playing telephone with this 'Cas', too then, if you're all such good friends with this boy I've never met?"

"He's Dean's age. They spent more time together. And just because you haven't met him, that doesn't make him bad. You haven't met a lot of the kids we meet. You'd have to be around for more than a day or two to meet any of them." And oh, the tone. Dean can feel his dad's anger bubbling from the bed. Dean would be glad the conversation is no longer on Cas except for the damage control he's about to be dealing with.

"What did you just say to me, boy? You watch your tone with me. You aren't too old to get your ass beat for talk like that."

"I'm just telling the truth, Dad. You're never around. It's not fair for you to flip out about Dean or I having friends you don't know when you're barely here enough to know _us_, let alone our friends!"

It is the wrong thing to say, not that there was a right thing at this point in the conversation. The ensuing fight is so loud they get a noise complaint from the manager and Dean has a split lip from stepping in front of a back-hand meant for Sam. Once Sammy's asleep and John's at the bar, he goes outside and calls Cas, because all he really wants right now is to be back at that farmhouse, playing board games in the basement with his best friend.

"_Hello, Dean_," comes Cas' voice over the line. It's deeper every time Dean talks to him, and makes him want to get in the Impala and drive back to Indiana, if only to get another kiss.

"Hey, Cas, how are you?"

"_I am well, Dean. How are you? You sound upset._"

"I'm not upset, just... Dad and Sam had another fight, and I just. I just wish they could see eye-to-eye, you know? I'm tired of having to get between them all the time."

"_Are you hurt?_"

"Just a split lip, no big deal. Sam said Dad was trying to control our lives too much, and Dad got all pissy about Sam talking back and went to smack him, and I got in the way."

_"You shouldn't have to shield your brother from violence, Dean. If you want to, you could come stay here. My parents might be religious, but they would never turn away someone who needed shelter._"

"No. Thanks, Cas, but no. Dad needs us. He's already lost Mom. He'd fall apart without us there."

"_And that gives him the right to talk to you the way he does? To hit you? And what about Sam? Does he deserve to be treated that way, too?_"

"No, of course not, but I can't... He's our dad, Cas. He's the only family we got besides each other. We can't just turn our backs on him. Besides, he's doing the best he can to keep us safe the only way he knows how."

"_I know how you feel, Dean. I understand. I just want you safe_."

"I am. I can take care of myself, and Sam. I know you don't like him, but Dad's just trying to protect us." Cas snorts from the other end of the phone. Dean smiles to himself, scuffing his toe on the concrete. "Enough about me, how are you doing?"

"_I am well, excellent actually. I've received acceptance letters from the University of Notre Dame, Georgetown University, Boston College, and the University of Chicago._"

"That's awesome, dude! Where are you going to go?"

"_I haven't decided yet. I have received good offers from all four. My parents would like me to go to Georgetown, but they also want me to become a senator, and I am not... that way inclined._"

Dean tries to imagine Castiel as a senator, stern-faced and speaking earnestly about the 'real issues', but all he can do is shake his head. Castiel might be smart enough and persistent enough to be a politician—and Dean has to shift his jeans thinking about Cas in a monkey suit—but he has the charisma of a wet blanket. "Dude, no. That's like, the worst idea ever."

"Agreed."

"So, what do you want to do?"

"You would make fun of me if I told you."

Dean grins even though Cas can't see him. "Oh no, you have to tell me now. This is going to out-nerd Sam, isn't it?" There's muttering on the other end, too jumbled and low for Dean to make sense of. "Say again?"

Castiel sighs, and it sounds to Dean like he might be in actual pain. "_I think I would like to be a librarian_."

Dean starts laughing so hard he has to crouch down against the wall. He can hear Cas grumbling when he settles down enough to listen. He chuckles a few final times and then straightens up, clearing his throat. "I'll have to get you some cardigans."

"_Dean—_"

"Maybe some of those tweed jackets with the patches on the elbows."

"DEAN—"

"Hey, maybe we could play naughty librarian. I could turn in some really overdue library books, you could punish me..."

"_I knew I shouldn't have told you_."

"Aw, Cas, don't be like that. I'm sorry, really. If you want to be a librarian, I'm 100% behind you. Which school has that... degree?"

"_Being a librarian requires a Master's degree, but you can get your undergraduate degree in any subject beforehand. I am thinking of getting a degree in linguistics, or possibly double-majoring in linguistics and literature_."

"Linguistics? Like languages?"

"_Yes. I am already fluent in Spanish, French, and Latin. I would like to learn more_."

"You speak Latin?"

"_Yes_."

"Like Latin Latin? Or Pig Latin?"

He can sense Cas clenching his jaw, but there's a hint of amusement in there, too. "_The original_."

Dean's first thought is for hunting. Bobby knows Latin. "That's kind of hot," he says, because of course he can't tell Castiel about hunting. And while it's not hot for Bobby to speak Latin, Dean can only imagine hearing it out of Cas' mouth.

"_I thought you were going to make fun of me again._"

"It's geeky, I'll give you that. But you being smart isn't exactly a turn-off, you know?"

"_Thank you, Dean._"

"You're welcome." Dean looks up at the sound of a car heading coming down the road and glances up to see the truck his dad bought when he gave Dean the Imapala heading towards him. He clears his throat. "Hey Cas, I gotta go. I'll call you tomorrow?"

"_I look forward to it_."

"And Cas? If it's any help, I like Chicago."

"_And why is that?_"

"We go through there a lot."

"_I'll keep that in mind, Dean. Good night._" Cas' voice has gone warm and soft, a matching warmth flickering in Dean's chest hearing it.

He smiles to himself. "Night, Cas." He flips the phone closed and slips it into his back pocket just as the truck pulls into the parking lot and parks in front of him. John narrows his eyes at Dean as he gets out of the car.

"Talking to that boy again?" he asks. He looks a little tipsy, but not drunk. It's something.

Dean stiffens, not ready to have this argument all over again. "Yes, sir."

John looks at him long and hard before asking: "You tell him about hunting?"

"Of course not, sir. Cas' a civilian." John looks like he's going to badger Dean more, but Dean keeps talking. "Look, Dad, Cas is my friend, but that's it. I'm not going to tell him about hunting. I won't let him get in the way of hunting. Or taking care of Sam. He's just someone I talk to about, you know, normal stuff."

"'Normal stuff'?" The incredulousness in his voice rankles Dean, but he pushed the annoyance aside.

"You know, travelling, music, tv. We were just talking about which college Cas is going to. Normal stuff."

John eyes him warily. Dean thinks maybe he doesn't believe him, maybe he senses the way Dean can't think about Cas without remembering the kiss they'd shared and trying to figure out when the soonest he can get back to Indiana is. Whether he does or doesn't, it's obvious that his father isn't happy. "You should stop talking to that boy. You'll slip up, tell him something he shouldn't hear. You're a hunter. Hunter's don't have friends outside of the life."

Dean frowns, looking down at his phone. He doesn't want to have to stop talking to Cas, but he will if his father orders him to. "Is that an order, sir?"

"Call it a suggestion."

"Yes, sir," Dean says with relief. Suggestion means that if he stops calling Cas as _much_ he doesn't have to stop calling him _all together_. Suggestion is better. Dean slides the phone back in his pocket and follows his father into the room.


	4. Chapter 4: You're a College Student, Cas

**Title: **The Trenchcoat Avenger of Truman High

**Author:** rons_pigwidgeon**  
**

**Pairing:** Dean Winchester/Castiel

**Rating: **NC17

**Warnings: **Masturbation, Underage Drinking, Phone Sex, Anal Fingering, Anal Plug, Sex Toys

**Chapter Summary: **In which Castiel goes to college, meets new people, goes on his first date, and has lots of awkward, but still hot-as-hell phone sex with Dean.

**Author's Note: **Unbetaed chapter for now, sadly. I didn't decide to write this chapter until two weeks ago, and I've only completed writing it today. I would have waited until it had a chance to get to beta, but I wanted to stick to my schedule. If you see any grammar/spelling issues, please let me know, and expect a re-post with edits sometime soon. I already have chapter 5 and 6 written out, and I'm going to try to stay ahead of the game so this doesn't happen again.

Please note that additional tags have been added to the story's description.

* * *

The three-hour drive from Fairfax was a trial in patience as Thomas spent the entire ride trying to cram as much annoying little brother behavior as conceptually possible before Castiel was out of his reach until Thanksgiving. But now that he is on campus, the prospect of leaving his home and his family—even his annoying little brother—is beginning to weigh on Castiel. _Can I really do this? What if I get sick or fall down a flight of stairs and break my leg? What if I don't make any friends? _These and a hundred other worries flew through his head as his family began to unpack the car. By the time they were ready with the first load of suitcases and bedding, he was very near a panic attack, but one step into the lobby of his new dorm calmed him immediately. It was like walking into the halls of Oxford—or at least what he imagined doing so would feel like.

"This is beautiful, Castiel," his mother says, looking around the spacious foyer.

He nods, staring up at the vaulted ceiling. "Yes, it is. It's hard to believe I will be living here."

"The paperwork says you'll be on the third floor," Roger offers from directly behind them.

Castiel turns, frowning. "I wonder if there's an elevator."

"The elevator is located around the corner. Hello, I am the Resident Master here at Burton-Judson Courts, Gandira Yadav. My wife, Yashawanthi, is talking to another new student over there," a short Indian man greets them, pointing to an Indian woman with dark hair long enough to sit on, talking to another freshman and her family across the foyer from them.

"Hello, sir. I am Castiel Novak. These are my parents, Roger and Amelia Novak, and my siblings."

"Our new linguist? Lovely to meet you finally, Castiel, Mr. And Mrs. Novak. Rest assured that we will be taking excellent care of your son here at Burton-Judson Courts. Let me show you to your dorm room. The elevator is this way." Mr. Yadav explains some of the highlights of Castiel's new dormitory as he directed them to the elevators, and is kind enough to take them all the way to Castiel's door. He leaves the keys with Castiel, along with instructions on how to find the Resident Masters' living quarters should he need anything. The courtesy is much appreciated by Castiel and his family, and even his littlest siblings pay polite attention, though Claire only looks to be interested because she has never met an Indian person before, and she starts fading fast when he starts to explain the bus routes to and from campus, and which areas of the city to avoid for safety reasons. Castiel feels welcomed and reassured that he will not be as horribly off as he had begun to fear he might be, and even his dorm room is not as small or uncomfortable as he had anticipated.

They drop off the first load of belongings, and Amelia, Claire, and Jacob stay behind to make the bed and begin the unpacking process, while Castiel and the others make the second trip down to the car.

A girl is helping to spread out Castiel's comforter when they return, and his mother hurries to introduce them. "Castiel, this is your neighbor, Avery Wells. Avery, this is my son, Castiel. Avery was kind enough to pop in to help me unpack for you," Amelia explains, offering an encouraging smile.

Castiel smiles at Avery and holds out his hand to shake. She is blonde and pretty, and Cas has a feeling his mother is hoping he will show romantic interest in her. He will have to explain as soon as his family has gone, but for the moment he is happy just to have a new acquaintance.

"Hi, Castiel, it's nice to meet you. I live next door, and I saw your little sister trying to escape, and thought I'd come check things out. You're in Linn-Mathews, right?"

"Yes," Cas answers, blinking. He hadn't expected people to know who he was before he got to campus.

"Yeah, you're the last of us freshman to move in, but don't worry. The other guys are cool. I should probably leave you to get all unpacked and everything, but we're going to a movie later if you want to come."

"Yes, I would like that, thank you," Castiel answers with probably more surprise than is warranted. Perhaps he isn't going to be alone after all.

"Excellent. I'll stop by and pick you up before we go. It was nice meeting you, Mrs. Novak, Claire, Jacob." She slips out passed Castiel's father with a wave and a flip of her golden hair.

"She was nice, Castiel," Amelia prompts, taking the box Roger had been holding and setting it down to unpack it. "She told me she plans to major in English Literature."

"She was really pretty, too!" Claire adds, grinning as she wraps herself around Castiel's leg.

"Yes, she was, Claire. Did you like her?" Castiel asks, patting her head.

"Yep!"

"Then, I shall endeavor to like her, as well," Castiel says, leaning down to give his sister a kiss on the cheek before moving to help unpack.

Castiel had had time to settle in, had had his first outing with his fellow students, had even had his first slice of Chicago-style pizza. He had not stopped grinning for the last four hours. His house-mates were wonderful, his dorm room was clean and did not appear to come with noisy neighbors, his room was mostly unpacked, and he had three days until classes started. And best of all: he had his very own cell phone and an empty dorm room with which to use it.

"_Hello?_" Dean's wary voice whispers from the other end of the phone line. Cas' grin grows wider.

"Hello, Dean."

"_Cas? Hey, wasn't expecting to hear from you so soon. How was moving day?_" There are sounds of rustling fabric and movement, then a door shutting, and Dean stops whispering. "_This your new number?_"

"Yes, it is. Moving was quicker than I expected. My dorm room is a little bigger than I thought it would be, and my hall-mates are nice."

"_Yeah? You meet anyone cool yet?_"

"I've already gone out to dinner and a movie with everyone from my House. They're all so interesting and amusing, and they made me try deep-dish pizza, and it was amazing!"

Dean chuckles. "_It is amazing. I'm glad you're having fun. Tell me about this... did you say house? I thought you were moving into a dorm._"

"I have. The dormitories are separated into Houses, much like the educational system in the United Kingdom. It's meant to foster solidarity and friendly competition between Houses. Mine is called Linn-Mathews, named after—" He would have gladly explained the history of his House to Dean, but Dean promptly cuts him off.

"_Yeah, yeah, onto the important stuff. Tell me about these people you met_."

Cas rolls his eyes, but he's too excited to comment on Dean's lack of academic interest. "Alright, there's Avery Wells. She lives next door to me, and she's very nice. I think you will like her. She is what I believe you would call 'hot' and incredibly interesting to talk to. She told me the entire history of Oscar Wilde while we were waiting for the bus. Did you know he was imprisoned for being a homosexual by his lover's homophobic father?"

"_No idea who that is, Cas, but I met a stripper once named Octavia Wilde._"

"Dean, honestly. Oscar Wilde was fascinating. You should read some of his work. Perhaps we could read _The Picture of Dorian Gray_ together?"

"_You're gonna make me read, now? I knew college was a bad idea_." Castiel only doesn't scold him because he can hear the humor in his tone.

"Yes, well, maybe not. Anyway, I think Avery will make a very nice friend."

"_Did you tell her you're gay yet, or are you gonna break her heart first?_"

"I did, though I have no idea why you would think I could break her heart. She took it well, as did my other house-mates."

"_Yeah? Good, tell me about them_."

"Well, there's Joren, who is from Denmark. He's... different, but pleasant. His accent is fascinating to listen to, and he speaks French, so I have someone to continue practicing with, which is good. There's also Neil. He's very amusing, and I think he might be interested in Avery."

"_You did say she was hot._"

"I did."

"_Either of the guys hot?_" Dean asks with a slight hesitancy.

"No, not that I would tell you if they were. We agreed not to talk about our other potential partners, remember?"

"_You can still tell me if you think one of them is hot. Just don't tell me if you make out with one of them._"

"I only want to make out with you."

"_Yeah?_"

"Yes. In fact, I wish you were here now, so that I could do just that."

"_Yeah? What would you do with me if you had me there?_" Dean's voice drops an octave, and Castiel feels the first signs of arousal.

He spreads out on the bed with the phone to his ear and licks his lips. He thinks he knows where Dean's going with this, and though he's nervous, he's also a little bit excited. "I'd probably kiss you."

"_Yeah? Where?_"

Cas frowns. "What do you mean? On your mouth, of course."

Dean laughs. "_There are other parts of the body to kiss, you know._"

"Like where?" Cas asks. He shifts further down the bed and lets his free hand start to rub down his chest over his shirt.

"_Like your neck. That's where I'd start, just behind your ear. You'd like that, wouldn't you? I'd nibble on your earlobe a little, then lick down your throat to your—_"

"That sounds incredibly unpleasant, Dean. Why would I want you to bite me on my earlobe? I'd much rather you kiss me."

"_Cas, shut up and listen, would you? It'd feel good, I promise._"

"Alright, but I still think it would be painful."

_"It wouldn't be, not the way I do it. Anyway, I'd lick down your neck to your collar bone, and then back up the other side to your jaw."_

"That's an awful lot of licking. It sounds wet."

"_You sound wet. Wait, that didn't..._" Dean lets out a loud sigh. Cas starts laughing, rolling nearly off the bed, because really, this is just ridiculous. He's still half-hard, though. "_It's kind of hard to be sexy when you keep correcting me, Cas. Do you want to have phone sex or not?_"

He settles, toning down his giggles and getting a better grip on the phone. "Yes, Dean. I apologize. I'm new to this."

_"Me, too, baby, me too. Okay, where was I?"_

"I believe you were about to kiss me for real."

"_Mmm, I was. I'd start by sucking your bottom lip into my mouth, maybe nibble it a little."_

Cas cannot help but start giggling again. "I had no idea you were such a biter, Dean._"_

_"Okay, so we're not doing this, then,_" Dean starts to grouse, clearly done with Cas' interruptions.

Cas sits up, shaking his head though Dean can't see him. "No, no, I'm sorry. I like it; I promise. Please, continue."

_"I don't think I want to now that you're laughing at me_."

"What if I told you I'm taking my shirt off right now?" Cas asks, pulling his shirt up his stomach, and trying to maneuver it over his head without dislodging the phone.

_"Yeah? I can get behind that._"

"Good. You were kissing me?" Cas prompts, laying back once the shirt's off so that he can get comfortable again.

"_Well, now that your shirt's off, I'm gonna have to do some exploring. You laying down?_"

"Yes, I am."

_"Good. If I were there, I'd be playing with your nipples right about now. Any idea how good a tongue on your nipple feels, Cas?"_

"No, of course not, Dean. But I think I would like it."

"_Why don't you try it with your fingers. Rub them over nice and good and give 'em a little pinch._"

Cas moves his hands down his chest, eyes closed tight as he begins playing with his nipples. His actions send a tendril of shocked pleasure down his spine and he gasps, squirming a little on the bed. He can hear Dean's breath shallow out at the sound.

"_Like that, baby?_"

"Yes, it's surprisingly pleasant."

"_Good, now give them a little hard tug._"

Cas does and cries out at the pleasure. "Dean..."

He can hear the grin in Dean's raspy response. "_Knew you'd like that. If I were there, I'd be biting them, nice and hard. You'd be squirming for me, wouldn't you, baby?_"

"Yes, Dean." Cas' hip thrust upwards involuntarily only to meet air. He wishes he had Dean over him to rub against instead.

"_Fuck, you probably look so hot. I'd be going for your pants now. You wearing any?_"

"Of course, Dean. Why wouldn't I be wearing pants?"

"_In bed, all alone? I wouldn't be. In fact, I'm not, just boxers, and I've got those down already. Lose the pants and the underwear._"

Cas hesitates, frowning. "Are you telling me you're..."

"_Yeah, why don't you join me?_"

Cas imagines Dean laying in bed, shirtless with his boxers pushed down around his knees, his hand stroking his erection. "Oh! I um... you're... o-o-okay," he stutters, distracted by the image of Dean. He fumbles with his trousers, but ends up having to drop the phone before he can get them down and off. When he gets the phone next to his ear again, Dean's breath is husky and there's a wet sound Cas can't identify.

"_Are you good and hard for me, baby?_"

"Yes, Dean. What would you be doing to me now?"

"_What do you want me to do to you?_"

Cas hesitates, biting his lip. He feels a strange combination of incredibly turned on and sort of ridiculous. He's never even gone past kissing in person, and he now he's about to tell Dean his sexual fantasies? He pictures Dean again, all but naked and stroking himself, awaiting Cas' answer. "I want you to touch me."

"_Oh yeah? Where?_"

Cas groans, rolling onto his side with the phone wedged between his cheek and the pillow. "You're really going to make me say it?" he asks, embarrassed.

"_Why, you shy—_" There's a loud beep, and the phone abruptly cuts into silence. Cas sits up, confused, picking the phone up to look at the screen. The call was ended, but why would Dean...? _I must have hit the END button with my cheek. Crap, _he thinks, quickly dialing Dean's number again. "_Where'd you go, there?_" Dean asks.

"I accidentally hit the END button with my cheek, sorry. Not exactly sexy..."

Dean chuckles low and warm with affection. "_You're always sexy to me, Cas. Now, where were we?_"

Relief washes over Cas at Dean's easy acceptance of his mistake. He shifts back onto his back, holding the phone up carefully so he won't hit the wrong button again. "You were about to touch me inappropriately, I believe."

"_That sounds like something I might do. I bet you're hard as a rock for me, aren't you, baby?_"

"Yeah. Are you?"

"_Oh yeah. Want me to make you come?_"

"Yes..." Cas curls his fingers around his own erection, imagining what it might feel like to have Dean doing it instead. His body feels hot all over, and he's already been leaking pre-come for a while now. He uses it to stroke himself, gasping at how good it feels.

"_I can do that. I'd grip you tight and stroke you good and fast. You're gonna be a screamer, aren't you, baby? When I really get to touch you. I'm gonna kiss you all over, make you shake for me, baby, beg me to touch you. You want that?_"

"God, yes... oh god, Dean, I'm gonna..." He doesn't get to say the rest before he's trembling and gushing come onto his hand and chest. He vaguely hears Dean curse, thinks he might have come, too. Cas closes his eyes, panting, weak. Dean doesn't say anything for a long while, but Cas can still hear him on the other end.

Eventually, he chuckles breathlessly. "_Dude, I can't wait to come see you. That was awesome._"

Castiel cannot help but agree, huffing out a laugh of his own. "I've never done anything like that before. I agree that it was surprisingly pleasant."

"_I haven't either, but yeah, we're definitely doing that again._"

"Not just the phone sex, though. You should probably know that I've never done... anything before."

"_You telling me you're a virgin, Cas?_"

"In every way, yes. I haven't exactly had the opportunity before."

"_We'll just have to see what we can do about that, then, yeah? If you want to, that is. I wouldn't, you know, make you or anything._"

"I would like that very much. When will you be coming to see me?"

"_I don't know, yet. I'm trying really hard, though."_

"Good, I miss you."

"_Yeah? Me, too._" There's the sound of water running and splashing. Dean must be cleaning himself up in the bathroom. Castiel takes the chance to find a washcloth and wipe himself down. He'll have to shower when he gets off the phone.

"I should get ready for bed. I promised Avery I would meet her for breakfast in the morning, and it's already past 1:00 in the morning."

"_Yeah, it's like 2:00-something here. Call you tomorrow?_"

"I look forward to it. Perhaps we could do more of the... thing we just did."

Dean laughs out-right, but it doesn't sound like he's laughing at Cas' expense, so he doesn't mind. "_Definitely. Night, Cas._"

"Goodnight, Dean." He hangs up and sits smiling at the phone for a while afterwards, uninterested in moving for the time being. Eventually, he does get up and gathers his toiletries to brave his first communal shower. It is neither as pleasant or unpleasant as he had imagined when he first found out about them. He goes to bed smiling.

* * *

Dr. Petronilla Märtz is the most fascinating woman Castiel has ever had the pleasure to meet. She teaches language in a manner that fascinates him. Language acquisition has always come easily to him, but something about her methods resonate well with him.

He stands from their latest session with a sense of confidence that he will be able to master German as thoroughly as he has mastered his other fluent languages. He turns to leave, and there's a guy standing at the end of his row, looking at him hesitantly. He is pale and blond, attractive in an unconventional way. Castiel recognizes him as a fellow student who always sits on the other side of the classroom and almost never talks.

"Hallo?" Castiel greets, stepping forward.

"Hi, um, Castiel, right? I'm Roderic.I just... er, I wondered if you might fancy getting a coffee with me?" Roderic has an English accent, Castiel thinks possibly southern, and his voice is much deeper than Castiel would have anticipated, given how skinny and meek he appears.

Castiel momentarily considers what Dean might think of him going to coffee with another man, but quickly dismisses the worry. It is unlikely that this man means to ask Castiel on a date. He probably just wants to discuss the coursework. And even if he is interested in Castiel romantically, Castiel knows that Dean is regularly sexually active. There's no reason he cannot get coffee with an attractive young man himself. "I... Ja, das klingt nett."

Roderic looks unsure, fiddling with the hem of his cardigan. "Does that mean yes? Sorry, I'm crap at this German stuff."

Castiel smiles, taking the final few steps to stand in front of Roderic. "That was a yes. I believe I would like to go to coffee with you. Did you intend for us to go now or at a later date?"

Roderic is beaming "Er... would now be alright? If you have somewhere else to be, we could plan for later?"

"I do not have anywhere else to be at the moment."

"Coffee shop down the street, then?"

"Lead the way." Roderic does, making sure that he walks next to Castiel and is attentive to him. They chat about their coursework and how much each likes the professor, before moving on to more personal topics. It is pleasant, and not as nerve-wrecking as Castiel had always believed his first date would be. When Roderic walks him back to the dorms a few hours later, he is surprised to find the young man lives on the first floor of his building. Roderic walks him to his door like a gentleman.

As they stand there chatting, it occurs to Castiel that a date usually ends in a kiss. He looks up at Roderic, smiling happily and chatting about his favorite restaurant in the city and how they should go there, and takes hold of his jacket lapel, pulling him down into a chaste kiss. Roderic makes a surprised noise, but doesn't hesitate to return the kiss, cupping a hand to Castiel's cheek. It isn't as assertive as Dean's kiss had been, and the same butterflies that had occupied his stomach then are absent now, but it is pleasant. He pulls away smiling. "I had a nice time with you today. Thank you for inviting me and for the coffee."

"Thank you for agreeing. I was sure you wouldn't. Would you be interested in going out again?"

"I believe I would, yes. Should I give you my number?"

Roderic's smile turns cheeky. "I wouldn't object." He pulls his phone out of his back pocket, ready to punch the number in, and Castiel quickly gives it to him. They exchange another smile, and Roderic swoops in for another quick peck on the lips, before slipping off back downstairs, presumably to his own room. Castiel opens his door with a smile, and isn't at all surprised when Avery arrives five seconds later to interrogate him.

* * *

Dean just saved a little girl from the angry ghost of her abusive grandfather, and now he's having a slice of celebratory blueberry pie while he waits to pick Sammy up from school. All-in-all, Dean's having a kind of awesome day. He pulls his phone out of his jacket pocket and dials Cas.

"_Castiel's phone. How may I help you?_" a female answers after three rings.

"Who's this?"

"_Avery, who's this?_"

"This is Dean. Where's Cas?"

_"Dean? Hot, long-distance boyfriend Dean? I've heard a lot about you._"

"Oh? Cas talks about me?"

"_Oh yeah, he told me all about your hotness. Plus, I heard him moaning your name through the wall the other night. Sounded kind of kinky if you ask me._"

Dean presses the heel of a hand into his eye. "Yeah, uh... thanks. Is Cas around?"

"_He's in the bathroom, getting ready for his date. You have some competition there. I saw the other guy walking Cas home the other day, and I gotta say he wasn't hard to look a nice English accent, too._"

Dean pauses. He hadn't realized Cas was dating anyone. Part of him is just a little bit worried, but he shakes it off. "Cas can do whatever he wants; I'm not worried. You didn't hear him calling that dude's name through the wall, did you?"

"_Not yet. You planning on coming to see him soon, or what? He's not gonna wait around forever. I know he told me you guys have an open relationship, or whatever, but Cas needs a good bump-n-grind as much as anyone. You don't want him doing that with anyone else, do you?_"

"He won't. What about you? I heard you're not too bad to look at, yourself."

"_Oh, did you? Well, Castiel wasn't lying. You know, if Cas does ever drop you like a hot potato, I would be more than happy to lick your wounds for you._" There are sounds of a door opening and movement, then Cas' voice in the background.

"_Who's on the phone?_"

"_You're boyfriend. He sounds like sex on legs_."

There's a grunt that sounds distinctly like Cas. "_He _is_ sex on legs. Give me the phone, please._"

"_Later, hottie,_" Avery says into the phone. A second later, Cas is there.

"_I apologize for my friend. She does not know how to keep her hands off other people's things._"

"Don't worry about it. I think I might like her."

"_She is a pleasant companion. You are calling at an unusually early hour today."_

"Yeah, I had kind of an awesome day. Thought I'd call early. I heard you got a date, though, so it's good I caught you."

"_Avery was not supposed to mention that. It is nothing serious, I can assure you._"

"Cas, I don't care if you go out with other guys. Not exactly a saint myself, am I?"

"_Regardless, I will keep my dalliances as emotionless and non-sexual as possible. I do not wish to have either with anyone but you_."

"Okay, cool. Uh...you gotta go now or...?"

"_I have a few minutes. Tell me about your awesome day_."

Dean does, as much as he can without revealing the morning spent in a cemetery in the middle of nowhere, digging up a grave so he could salt and burn a body that was only just beginning to rot. Cas has to hang up a few minutes later, but he leaves Dean with a promise to call him the next night for a round of phone sex, which is alright with Dean. He tucks his phone into his pocket with a renewed resolve to get time off to visit Cas.

* * *

"What would you like to do tonight?" Castiel asks, pulling one of his feet onto his bed and hugging his knee.

Avery swirls in his desk chair, leaning her head back so her long hair nearly gets caught in the chair wheels. "There's a Greek party on the Loyola campus we could crash."

Cas tilts his head, intrigued. "I have never been to a party before, but if they are anything like the fraternity parties I have seen in some of the movies Dean has forced me to watch, I do not believe I would like them."

"This isn't a frat party. It's a Greek party. And what do you mean you've never been to a party? You're a red-blooded American college student, and you're hot. How have you never been to a party?" She stops her spinning to stare at him in disbelief.

"I... never got invited to any?" Castiel hesitates. "I wasn't exactly popular in high school. I was homeschooled as a child, and we lived out on a farm in the middle of nowhere. My only friends were my siblings. I had acquaintances in high school, but I never got close enough to anyone to be considered party material. I don't think my parents would have liked me going to parties anyway."

"Well, they're not here to stop you now, are they? We're going. Get dressed and grab Neil and Joren and meet in my room in ten." She gets up and quickly leaves the room, Castiel assumes to change out of the brightly colored pajamas shorts she'd been wearing.

Castiel goes to Neil's room, taking his jacket with him and carefully locking his door behind him. He can see Neil and Joren through the open doorway, talking. They both look about to expire from boredom. He knocks on the door frame and is greeted by semi-interested head nods. "I have been instructed to collect you both and meet in Avery's room in less than ten minutes. We are going to a Greek party, which I have been assured is not the same thing as a fraternity party," he informs them, going in and making himself comfortable on the bed next to Joren.

"We're going to a party? Thank God, I'm so bored," Neil says with a sigh of relief. "Will there be hot chicks there?"

"I have no idea. Avery did not specify."

"You didn't ask?" Neil looks incredulous, as though Castiel has neglected to ask God what the purpose of life is.

"Castiel is a homosexual," Joren offers, mouth fumbling around the word. He had only learned the English word for it when Cas came out to him.

"Oh yeah, sorry, I forgot. You gonna invite that guy from your German class to come with us?" Neil asks, standing from his desk and going to his closet to change his shirt.

"No, I don't think so. We have only been on two dates."

"Dude, in college that's like being married."

Castiel blinks at him, slightly alarmed. Roderic does not think they are exclusive, does he? He had been planning on waiting to inform him of the situation with Dean until they had grown more comfortable with each other, if that ever happened. Their dates had been nice, but he is trying to maintain the emotional distance he has promised Dean. "You don't think he thinks we are a couple, do you?"

"Do you want him to?" Joren asks, looking curious.

"No, absolutely not."

"Ooh ho ho, I get it. He just a booty call for you, Cas?"

"I... I don't think I understand that term."

"Booty call?" Joren seconds his confusion.

"Gees, sometimes you're as bad as each other. Booty calls are people you call to have sex with when you want, but don't, like, _date_ date."

"But Roderic and I have gone on two dates together."

"So, you haven't hooked up yet?"

"No? We've kissed, but nothing more. I am saving myself."

"Dude, when you said you were religious, I didn't think you meant you were a monk. Saving yourself? Really? What for? You're a dude. It's not like you're gonna get pregnant."

Castiel sighs, shaking his head. "While I am religious and do believe in the teachings of the Church, I have not taken a vow of chastity. I am merely waiting for a... particular person." He hasn't told Neil or Joren about Dean yet, and isn't sure he wants them to know about him.

"You're not holding off for your soul mate or something, are you?"

Castiel smiles vaguely. "Not exactly, no, though he is very important to me."

Neil pauses in tying his shoes. "Wait, are you talking about, like, a real person you already know?"

"Are you fuckers ready, or what? I think there's a rule that the girl of the group shouldn't be ready before the guys. Jesus," Avery exclaims as she walks through the open door. She has changed from her sweats into a violently pink dress that looks like it's made out of plastic and is so short Castiel thinks he might be able to see her bottom when she turns around. Thankfully, she is wearing a leopard print coat over the dress that reaches to her knees so that he will not have to find out where the dress reaches until she takes it off.

Castiel takes his eyes off her to glance at Neil, whose mouth is agape as he stares at her. Joren appears to be similarly affected. Castiel rolls his eyes and stands, pulling his jacket on. "Yes, let's go." Neil and Joren follow them out, Neil pausing to lock his door. They ask questions of Avery as they make their way to the elevator and then outside to the bus stop. Neil thankfully is too distracted by Avery and her tight, tiny dress to remember to ask Castiel about the particular someone he is holding his virginity for.

When the bus arrives, Joren takes the seat next to Castiel and begins a running commentary of Neil's behavior around Avery and her tiny dress that persists through a brief bus ride and a half-hour jaunt on the El and has Castiel holding back his laughter every few minutes. Thankfully, the commentary is in French, and neither Avery nor Neil can understand a word of it. Both are too distracted with each other to care, anyway.

Avery takes charge when they finally hit the streets again an hour later, leading them to an apartment building that is only distinguished from its neighbors by the pulsing music emitting from the windows. Castiel is apprehensive, but he has already come so far and is definitely not comfortable with the idea of taking public transit back by himself. Joren urges him up the front steps of the apartment ahead of him, giving him no choice but to move forward. There is a guy at the door selling red plastic cups for $5. He says they can drink as much as they want, but if they lose their cups, they have to buy another. Castiel doesn't intend to drink very much.

"Στην υγειά μας!" someone shouts from within a cluster of people stood on the other side of the large sitting room, and everyone else shouts back happily, holding up their drinks.

Castiel turns to Avery, intrigued and a little excited. "When you said this was a Greek party, what did you mean?" he asks, leaning over her shoulder. She's lost the coat and is already the center of attention to a group of young men.

She laughs and points to a Greek flag hanging behind the table set up for a DJ. "I thought you would like it. Here, meet Greg. Greg, this is Cas. He's a language nerd. I bet he could tell you the history of the Greek language in the United States and look extra hot doing it," Avery says with a wink, pulling a broad-shouldered man over by the sleeve of his shirt. The man is definitely Greek, with dark eyes, and dark, curly hair, and olive skin. He smiles down at Castiel, and Castiel's heart does a little flutter.

"Σας πάρτε μια μπύρα," Greg says, seeing that Castiel's cup is empty. He puts a loose arm around Castiel's shoulders and directs him to the kitchen where a keg sits with more people surrounding it. Joren is already there, getting his own beer, and he doesn't even blink an eye at seeing Castiel with a stranger's arm around him. He just switches cups with Cas and fills his own up.

"You found a friend already, gelukwensen! I am Joren. Who are you?" he asks, holding a hand out to shake Greg's. Greg introduces himself, and they exchange stories of how they met Avery while Castiel takes his first drink of beer. He has to fight very hard not to spit it out as soon as it reaches his lips. It is nothing like the dry wine he's had at church. It's bitter and entirely horrible, and he has no idea why anyone in their right mind would choose to drink it. Joren laughs at the expression on his face.

"It is not the best quality, but it will get you drunk, friend." Joren pats Castiel's shoulder and holds his cup up in a show of cheer. Castiel forces another mouthful down, just as awful as the first, but the encouraging look on Joren's face spurs him on.

"Not a fan of beer?" Greg asks, close enough to Castiel's ear to make him shiver.

"I've never had it before. It is not... preferable." Castiel explains.

"I'd offer you something else, but I don't think Mike has anything."

"I will endure. Can I assume that everyone here knows Greek?" he asks, trying to ignore the taste of sour juice in his mouth in favor of enjoying himself.

"Oh no, not everyone. We're all just from Greece, or our families are." He explains about his parents coming from Crete and growing up going to Greek school, and the conversation floats off from there to other topics. Before Castiel knows it, he's settled on a couch, all but in Greg's lap, and he cannot stop giggling. He's lost track of how many beers he's drunk, and Greg's hand is up the back of his shirt, his fingertips tingling along Cas' skin, and this party thing is a brilliant idea. He wants to go to parties every night.

He's just wrapped his fingers around Greg's neck with the intention of pulling him in for a kiss when there's a loud shout, and people start scrambling towards the back door. Castiel has no idea what's going on, but someone grabs his hand and pulls him along in the crowd. Someone behind him is shouting 'cops!', and suddenly he's stumbling down a rickety flight of wooden steps into an alley, and the person pulling him is wearing Avery's leopard coat. Castiel shakes some of the slush from his brain long enough to note that it is Avery pulling him.

They manage to break out of the alley and make a run for it in the opposite direction of the flashing police lights. Three blocks away, Avery pulls him to a stop in the archway of a closed thrift store and doubles over to catch her breath. Joren huddles in with them. Castiel hadn't even realized he'd been following them. "Shit, that was close. I'll lose my scholarship if I get caught drinking underage; you both probably will, too. Where's Neil?" she asks, peering around the doorway to look down the street.

"I saw him running the other direction. We might be able to catch him if we head for the subway now," Joren says, looking down the street as well.

"Okay, sounds good. Let's go." She steps back onto the sidewalk, a little more composed and neat after a coat and hair check in the closed shop window. She leads them on towards the subway stop, Castiel leaning on Joren's arm in an attempt to minimize his swaying footsteps as much as possible. The beer goggles in health class in no way prepared him for how disorienting behind drunk truly is.

"Doing okay there, Cas?" Avery asks, smiling back at him.

He frowns at her. "I feel dizzy," is all he manages. Avery laughs and shakes her head at him. Thankfully, they find Neil standing with a few other U of C students waiting on the train platform, buzzing over how exciting it was to have been at a party that actually got busted by the cops. It only occurs to Castiel as they get on the train after a five-minute wait that he has no idea where Greg went. He takes a seat next to Joren and cuddles into his side, an action Joren thankfully doesn't protest, and listens to Neil tell them about making out with a Greek girl from UIC, who had given him her number. For a while, he dozes.

An hour of public transit to sober up later, Castiel is still drunk. He knows this. His friends know this. The security guard at the entrance to the dorms knows this. He would care, but somehow he is well past that stage. Instead, he feels floaty and happy and a little dizzy and good god is he horny. He should just call Dean, and let Dean talk him to orgasm, but he doesn't want to have to imagine someone else's hands on him. He wants to feel them. So instead of going to his room to jack off with Dean's voice in his ear, he says goodnight to his friends at the elevator and goes down the hall to the Vincent House dorms.

Roderic looks sleepy, but pleased to see Castiel when he opens the door. Cas smiles drunkenly back and sways into Roderic's personal space. "Hi. You have very nice lips," he says, pulling Roderic down by his t-shirt and kissing him. Roderic makes a muffled sound of surprise, but quickly has his arms around Castiel and is kissing him back. Castiel sort of loses track of what's going on for a while except for _nice_ and _warm_ and _pleasant_, and when he's next aware, they're laying on Roderic's bed with their shirts off, and Castiel is straddling Roderic's hips, grinding down on his erection and moaning. Roderic takes ahold of his hips to help him along, nipping and licking at Cas' neck.

"You're so bloody gorgeous, you know that?" Roderic whispers into his ear, taking his earlobe between his teeth and gently tugging. Castiel moans, grinding his hips down harder. All he can think about is that Dean had been right. Biting does feel good. His only regret is that it was not Dean here below him, nipping at him and groaning those deep, desperate growls of tries to push thoughts of Dean away, but they're ever-present. Dean would grip him tighter. Dean would know just where to kiss him. Dean would have had his pants off by now. Dean would call him baby and whisper dirty things in his ear.

He growls and kisses Roderic hard, gnashing their teeth together and working his hips faster, trying to lose himself in the friction. Soon he's coming into his own boxers, but the orgasm isn't particularly spectacular, and he's not entirely certain he didn't call out Dean's name when he came. Roderic doesn't appear to have noticed, though, because he's come, too, and he's panting underneath Castiel with this look of wonder in his eyes. "That was brilliant," he rasps, grinning up at Castiel. He pulls Cas down into another kiss, more tender and softer than before.

Castiel kisses back, dizzy and faintly nauseous. He settles into Roderic's side, too tired to bother with the mess drying in his pants. Roderic pets his hair and kisses his forehead, and it's nice. The comfort of it is enough to lull him to sleep, and he doesn't think about what the morning will bring.

* * *

There is an earthquake happening. No, he lives in Chicago; there are no fault lines here. He's being shaken by a hand on his shoulder. There is a loud robotic sound—his phone, it's ringing. He opens his eyes and immediately regrets the decision. He lets out a loud groan and curls in on himself. "Oh no, I'm dying," he moans, writhing a bit. Someone chuckles and lips are pressed to his cheek.

"You aren't dying, love, you've a phone call. You best pick it up if you don't want him to hang up." The phone is pressed into his hand and another kiss is pressed to his temple before Roderic steps away from him. He fumbles with the phone, pressing OK and holding it up to his ear.

"Hello?" he croaks.

"_Cas? What's up? You sound like shit._"

Castiel groans, rolling over so that he can shield his eyes from the light with the blanket. "I believe I am hungover. I feel like I'm going to die."

He can hear Dean's laughter on the other end, loud and piercing. It feels a little like knives are being shoved into his temples. He moans and curls into a tighter ball. "_Were you drinking last night? Wow, my little puritan is all grown up. Didn't think you had it in you, Cas._"

"It was Avery's idea. We went to a party on the North Side. There were lots of Greek people there," he explains.

"_Wow, first party and it's a fraternity party, huh? Good job._"

"No, it was... the people were from Greece. Sort of. My brain isn't working well enough to explain. The um... the police came and broke it up. Avery made me run to avoid them. It was interesting."

"_Woah, underage drinking at a party _and_ almost arrested? This just gets better and better. Wish I'd been there._"

"I wish you'd been there, too. I miss you," Castiel confesses, whispering in the hopes that Roderic won't hear him. His stomach plummets at the thought of Roderic, and he's up and racing out of the dorm room in search of the nearest bathroom.

He returns to the room a few minutes later, feeling slightly more normal and ready to find his shirt and go back to his room to shower, but Roderic is eying the phone left in the pile of blankets in a displeased way. Castiel looks down at himself in only his soiled jeans and feels dirty and sinful. He is disgusted with himself. He never should have gone to Roderic's room last night. What was he doing? This was insane. How could he let Roderic believe they were headed for a relationship, serious or not, when his heart has always belonged to Dean? He walks to the bed and picks the phone up. "I apologize, Dean. I found myself suddenly in need of a toilet. Would you mind if I called you back in a little while?"

"_Sure, Cas. I'll be around. Grab a greasy breakfast and some aspirin and take a nap. You'll feel better, I promise._"

"Thank you, Dean. I will try to take your advice." He hangs up and tucks the phone into his pocket. He spots his t-shirt folded on the desk next to Roderic's computer, where he had apparently been typing before Castiel's phone started ringing. He puts the shirt on quickly and takes a deep breath, holding onto the desk to keep himself steady as he makes eye contact with Roderic. "I apologize for assaulting you last night. It was presumptuous of me to assume we were at a level in our relationship where that sort of intimacy would be welcome."

Roderic smiles, and it almost reaches his eyes. "Hey, a gorgeous man comes to my door to molest me, I'm not turning him away. I didn't mind at all. In fact, it was... nice." His voice grows warm at the word, and his smile turns hopeful.

"Yes, what I remember of it was nice, I agree. Which is why I cannot continue to... see you, Roderic. I'm sorry. I like you quite a bit, but I... the man I was just on the phone with?" Roderic looks down, his smile slumping. "I am in love with him. I should have explained the situation before I agreed to go to coffee with you, but I didn't know how. He travels the country with his family and rarely stays in one place for long, which makes a relationship difficult. We have agreed to maintain an open relationship, wherein we may date, and even sleep with, anyone we choose as long as we do not become emotionally entangled with anyone but each other. I..." Castiel falters, unsure how to phrase his thought. "I had thought I could maintain such a relationship, but I cannot. I like you a great deal, and were the situation different I would very much like to start a serious relationship with you, but as it is, there will always be Dean."

Roderic's face has withered into a mixture of disappointment and rejection that turns Castiel's stomach more than the hangover already has. He feels the need to apologize again, but can't find the words. "Are you sure?" Roderic asks, quiet and filled with pain.

"Yes, I'm very sorry. Thank you for letting me sleep here tonight. I hope you will not harbor any ill-will towards me. I did not mean you harm."

"Right, yes, of course. I supposed I was silly to think... Nevermind, sorry. Would you mind terribly if I asked to be left alone now?"

"Oh, um, no. Sorry, again. I'll just..." He backs awkwardly from the room and shuts the door behind him. Thankfully, no one stops him in the hall when he reaches his own room a minute later. He gathers his shower things and a change of clothes and makes his way to the showers. The only other guy in the bathroom is someone he hasn't met yet, and he is permitted to shower in peace.

* * *

This is Castiel's fifth batch of cookies in less than a week. Perhaps it would be excessive, except that the guys have already eaten through the previous four in the same amount of time. And besides, baking soothes the lonely places in him and makes him think of home.

Elbows-deep in the oven in the student kitchens is where Avery finds him, and she is not impressed. "That Freshman Fifteen is going to rear its ugly head if you don't stop baking soon, Cas. What's going on?"

"Nothing is 'going on'. I simply enjoy baking," Castiel replies, probably a bit gruffly.

"Sweetie, you've made like ten batches of cookies in the last week. Is this because of the break-up with Roderic? I thought you wanted it. I'm sure he'd take you back if you asked. Bring him some cookies wearing nothing but an apron, and I would be shocked if he turned you away."

Castiel frowns, flicking a bit of dough at her. "I have no interest in rekindling my situation with Roderic. I..." He sighs. He recognizes that he is pouting down at the bowl of cookie dough, but he can hardly prevent himself from doing so in this mood. "I miss Dean. I talk to him every day, but I want to... to touch him, look him in the eye, kiss him. He keeps saying he's trying to get here, and I know he's telling me the truth, but it's just... not enough? I need more than his voice, if that makes sense."

Avery steals the bowl from him and starts licking the dough-covered spoon. "How far do you guys go when you do the phone sex thing?"

Castiel's feels his entire face heat into a blush, and he quickly makes himself busy scooping out dollops of dough onto the greased cookie sheet he already prepared. "I don't see how that is pertinent."

He can feel Avery's unrelenting gaze on him. She waits until he has filled two cookie sheets before pulling the bowl away from him and returning to licking the spoon, despite his scowl. "I think I know what you need. Get these cookies baked, and then we're going on a little trip."

"Where are we going?" Castiel puts the cookies in the oven and sets the timer, while Avery pops up onto the counter nearby and eats a big spoonful of chocolate chip-covered dough.

"It's a surprise. Let's get back to Dean. Is he hot?"

"He's... yes, he's distracting to look at. He's very tall, and broad-shouldered, and he has these intense green eyes that almost glow when he's happy. And he has this leather jacket that's a little too big for him that he wears all the time. It's sexy. And of course, you've heard his voice."

Avery nods with a dreamy look. "Yeah, he definitely made me want to lose my underwear. I can see why you're so frustrated."

Castiel does not know what to say, so he stays quiet. Avery kicks her feet off the counters and smirks at him over her spoon. Twenty minutes later, they're on the bus, headed for the Red Line, and Castiel still has no idea where they're going. "Should I be nervous?" he asks.

"Probably. You'll like it, though, don't worry." She pats his knee, and promptly changes the subject, asking him how his family is doing. It puts him at ease to talk about his siblings.

By the time they are re-emerging from the subway, Castiel has nearly forgotten that he has no idea where they are going. A ten-minute walk later, they're standing in front of a store called 'Early to Bed'. "What sort of store is this?" Castiel asks, confused. _Are we buying mattress pads? _Avery doesn't say anything, just steers him inside. Being inside doesn't help his confusion. There are no beds, but there are a lot of plastic-looking penises. He immediately starts to blush and tries to walk back out. "No, no, sweetie, you're staying. At any given moment, your boyfriend is 400 - 1000 miles away from you. You need something to take the edge off besides your own hand."

"Avery, I don't understand... This seems extremely inappropriate..."

"You have phone sex with your long-distance boyfriend that's so loud I can hear it through a wall. I'm no Catholic, but I'm pretty sure getting a dildo isn't much higher on the sin scale."

"What's a dildo?"

Avery looks to the woman standing at the cash register, watching them with amusement. She has pink hair and a bright smile when Castiel turns to look at her. "Can I help you find anything?" she asks in a friendly, open way that puts Castiel a little more at ease.

"I don't know..." He looks uncertainly at Avery, who flashes the woman her own friendly smile and drags him over to the counter.

"Cas here is new to..." She turns to give Castiel a considering glance. "Everything, pretty much, and he comes from a religious background, so he's a little shy."

"That's understandable. We try to be as open and non-judgmental here as possible. Do you know what you might be looking for today?" the woman asks, turning to Castiel.

"The door? I apologize; I don't know why my friend thought it was a good idea to bring me here, but I'm fine really."

"You're sexually frustrated, Cas. You baked like ten batches of cookies this week. You need to take the edge off before you get blue balls."

"Avery! I have no idea what that even is, but I can assure you my testicles are not an unnatural color—"

"Not what I meant, Cas. You need to get off, and your hand clearly isn't doing it for you anymore. I brought you here to find something that will, or at least something that can hold you off until Dean finally gets his ass here to help you."

"I don't see how buying a plastic phallus is going to help that. I have one of my own, you realize."

The shop owner is smiling calmly at him, but Avery just stares at him in disbelief. She turns to the other woman, her expression a clear prayer for help. "We have several products available that can help you to entertain yourself. If you are interested in anal stimulation, we have several vibrators that attach to you finger for added pleasure when fingering yourself, as well as a variety of dildos and vibrators for deeper penetration. If anal isn't your thing, we also have sleeves and vibrating rings to stimulate your penis. Would you like me to show you?"

"I...uh... I don't..." Castiel looks to Avery, torn between wanting to be polite and trying not to die of embarrassment.

"Yes, please," Avery answers for him, clapping him on the shoulder.

"Great, this way." She moves out from behind the counter and takes them to a long shelf of plastic phalluses. She picks up one that looks to be about the same size as Castiel's own. "This is a dildo. This particular one is made of silicone, but they can be made of a variety of materials." She goes on to explain the various types and how Castiel might use them to pleasure himself. After a few minutes, his interest in the academic overcomes his embarrassment, and he soon finds himself enjoying talking to the shop owner. She knows more about sexual stimulants than Castiel would have thought possible. He leaves the store with a small anal plug and a bottle of water-based lubricant and instructions on how to use both, as well as a guide to gay sex that makes him blush and causes Avery to go into a giggling fit that doesn't end for a full minute.

Later that night, he carefully lays out a towel on his bed and sets out both the plug and the lubricant. He calls Dean as he lays down on the towel. It feels awkward, but he is able to ignore his discomfort as soon as Dean picks up.

"_How's my favorite future librarian doing?_" Dean greets him, the smile evident in his tone. There's loud music in the background and the sound of voices. Dean must not be at the motel, then. Castiel smiles to himself.

"I made an interesting purchase with Avery today that I thought you might like to share with me."

"_Oh yeah, what's that?_"

"It is a toy."

"_A toy, huh? What kind?_" Dean's voice deepens and Castiel can hear him walking somewhere.

"It is an anal plug, I believe it is called?"

Dean doesn't answer for a minute, caught up in what sounds like a coughing fit. "_Shit, Cas, are you serious?_" He finally manages.

"Yes? I haven't used it yet, but I've... cleaned myself, and I am laying naked in bed with it."

There is more coughing and possibly choking, and when Dean responds finally, he sounds hoarse. "_You want to use it right now, while I'm talking to you? That's... really fucking hot, Cas. I'm at a bar, though. Give me a minute to get in a stall or something. Fuck._" There's further sounds of movement. Castiel can picture Dean trying to find an empty bathroom stall, hopefully with an erection visible through his jeans, surrounded by surly bikers. He squirms on the towel, grinning. "_Okay, I'm clear. So, you're naked?"_

"Yes, Dean."

"_What's the toy look like?_"

Castiel picks the plug up and rotates it in his hand, examining it. "It is blue. It has a wide, flat base that I understand is meant to be used to manipulate the toy once it is inside. The toy itself is an inch and a half in diameter, about the length of my hand span, and tapers off to a tip at the end."

"_And you're supposed to put it in your..."_

"My anus, yes. I've been assured that it is quite pleasant when the user is properly prepared."

"_And how do you... prepare yourself?_"

"I used my fingers to clean myself in the shower. It was... interesting. I feel a bit... stretched, I suppose."

"_And it wasn't, you know, painful?_"

"No. It burned a bit, but I only used one finger."

"_Let's start there, then. I uh, don't know much about butt stuff, but I'm pretty sure you're supposed to stretch yourself with some lube first. You got that, right?_"

"Yes, I have it right here. Could you please not refer to anal sex as 'butt stuff'? It's very off-putting."

Dean chuckles. "_Yeah, I can do that. Okay, uh... I guess start by putting some of the lube on your fingers?_"

"Okay." Castiel fumbles to do so, setting the phone down next to his ear while he gets the cap open and dribbles some of the lubricant on his fingers. "Done."

"_Okay, I think you should start by rubbing your dick. Is it hard yet? If it isn't, stroke it until it is._"

Castiel has become accustomed to Dean using the word 'dick' in the several months since he moved to school, but today is the first time that it hasn't made him blush. Instead, he wraps his hand around his half-hard penis and starts stroking the way he imagines Dean would. He moans at the contact, arching his back slightly off the bed and calling Dean's name out softly.

"_Sounds like you like that, baby. Why don't you try to move your fingers down to that nice clean hole for me, okay?_"

"What should I do to it?"

"_Rub against it, tell me what feels good._"

Castiel does, moaning a little louder at the surprising sensation of pleasure. He had felt too exposed in the shower to truly enjoy the cleaning, but now the pressure feels wonderful. "Dean, it feels so good when I press against it. Can I put a finger in, please?"

"_Oh course, baby, do what you want to do._"

Cas pushes one fingertip into himself, stroking the tight muscle he can feel. He puts more pressure on the muscle and it gives, swallowing his finger up to the second knuckle. It tingles pleasantly and makes him moan. He pushes further inside until the webbing of his hand prevents him going any deeper. "I have my finger all the way inside, Dean. It feels amazing."

"_Yeah? Why don't you try sliding it in and out a little?_"

Castiel does and cries out when he accidentally hits something that sparks a bolt of pleasure down his spine. "_What was that, baby?_"

"I don't know, but it felt amazing. I'm going to put in another finger." He does, hearing Dean's harsh breathing in his ear as he thrusts his index and middle fingers in and out of his anus. His toes curl at the pleasure of it.

"_Are you nice and loose, baby? You sound so hot right now. I'd give anything to be there watching you fuck yourself on your fingers._"

"Dean, oh...oh God... I think I might..."

"_Don't you fucking come until you've at least tried the plug thing. I want to hear the noises you make when you put it in_."

"Dean... yes, okay, I think I'm ready to try._" _He pulls his fingers from his body, fumbling for more lube to pour on the plug, coating it thoroughly. The first attempt to push it inside goes nowhere. His hole stubbornly pushes the narrow tip out before even a centimeter makes it in. A little more coaxing and the muscles finally give way. The first feeling of the toy fully inside him causes his toes to curl in pleasure.

"_Fuck, you sound so hot right now. You get it in?_"

"Yes, Dean. I feel so full."

"_Good, when you're ready, I want you to start fucking yourself on it. Try to hit that thing that made you scream before, okay?_" Castiel nods even though Dean can't see him and begins to thrust the toy in and out. He all but screams when it hits whatever causes rockets of pleasure up his spine and begins trying to aim the toy there. He succeeds about half the time, and it isn't long before he's shooting come all over his stomach, all but sobbing Dean's name into the phone, body arched off the bed before collapsing into a trembling mess.

As he comes down, he hears Dean's own muffled cry of orgasm and smiles to himself. He lifts up off the towel and uses it to clean his hands and hole, as well as the toy. He will have to wet a washcloth with soapy water in the bathroom to clean it fully, but a wipe-down will do for now.

"_Fuck, Cas, that was the hottest thing I've ever heard._"

"I enjoyed it as well." He yawns loudly, surprising himself with his sudden exhaustion.

"_You tired, buddy?_"

"I believe I am. Would you mind if I saved the asking how your day went until tomorrow?"

Dean laughs. "_Gonna fuck and run, then? Yeah, that's fine, as long as you promise to tell me how you and Avery ended up some place that sells sex toys tomorrow._"

"Yes, I can do that. Goodnight, Dean."

_"Night, Cas_." Castiel hands up the phone with a feeling of satisfaction, and goes about cleaning up and preparing for bed with a smile. Avery had been correct. A little alternative stimulation had been an excellent release of his sexual frustration. He can't wait to do it again tomorrow.


	5. Chapter 5: Campus Visit

**Title: **The Trenchcoat Avenger of Truman High

**Author:** rons_pigwidgeon**  
**

**Pairing:** Dean Winchester/Castiel

**Rating: **NC17

**Warnings: **Masturbation, Underage Drinking, Phone Sex, Anal Fingering, Anal Plug, Sex Toys, Blow Jobs, Frottage

**Chapter Summary: **Dean finally visits Castiel at school, but his short reprieve from hunting has consequences.

**Author's Note: **Unbetaed chapter for now. If you see any grammar/spelling issues, please let me know, and expect a re-post with edits sometime soon.

Please note that additional tags have been added to the story's description.

* * *

Dean stops the pretty blonde walking past him with a quiet, "Excuse me."

She stops, hands still buried in her messenger back, looks irritated until she turns and sees his face. A flirtatious smile breaks out, and she steps up closer. "Hi."

"Hey, sorry to bother you, but would you happen to know where Burton-Judson Courts is?" he asks, leaning into her and dialing up the charm.

She gives him a once-over that looks more than pleased with what she's seeing. "That's where I live. I could walk you there. It's only a few blocks." She strokes a finger down the open lapel of his shirt and steps right into his personal space. "And then maybe I could show you my dorm room, too?"

If he hadn't come here for a different reason and didn't know exactly who this girl was, he would probably be interested in taking her up on that offer. "You know, I would, believe me I would love to see your dorm room, sweetheart," his eyes sweep down her slim body before flicking back up to her eyes, "but I'm kind of meeting someone. Could you just point me in the right direction, please?"

She frowns and steps back, looking down the street. "Sure, yeah, turn right at the end of the block and it's the third block down from there."

He follows her gaze and nods, smiling wider. "Thanks, Avery. See you around." He circles around to the driver's side and opens his door, grinning at her confused expression.

"How did you…" Her eyes go huge and she rushes to the passenger side and puts her hands on the hood as if it will stop him getting in. "Wait, are you… are you Dean?" She says his name with a little bit of awe. For a second he thinks about her saying it that way while naked and underneath him, but he blinks that thought away and winks.

"Like I said, I'll see you around." He slides into the car and turns her on, waiting for Avery to step back before pulling off the street and circling the block. He could have walked, but that would ruin the surprise, so he parks in front of the building Avery had indicated, lucking out with a spot just big enough for him almost directly in front of the entry. He gets out and leans against the passenger side door to wait, checking his watch. If he's coming directly from class, he should be here any minute. Dean just hopes Avery hasn't already called to let him know Dean's here. He watches the students walking past as they wait, more than a few of them watching him back. A group of giggling girls walks past checking him out, and he tips his head to them, but doesn't give them more attention than that.

He looks down the street and grins, seeing the scruffy black head he's been waiting to see for over a year. Cas is looking down at his phone, frowning in confusion, and almost walks right past him, but he looks up just in time and freezes in the middle of the sidewalk. "Dean?"

"Hey Cas," Dean greets him, stretching his arm over the hood of the Impala to pat her shiny black surface. "Check out my baby; isn't she sweet?"

Cas doesn't even seem to see the car. His eyes are focused razor-sharp on Dean, taking every detail of him in. Dean can't help looking back. Cas is still shorter than Dean by half a head, but he looks less juvenile now, his features having sharpened a little. And there's stubble on his jaw. His lips are still as pink as ever, and Dean has to resist the urge to pull him in by his ridiculous argyle sweater and kiss him senseless. Cas, apparently, doesn't have these qualms. One second Dean's eying the band logo peeking out of the cardigan, the next Cas is right up in his personal space and kissing him like he needs it more than breathing. Dean fumbles back against the car and grabs onto his waist and kisses back, groaning as Cas bites his bottom lip and licks his way into his mouth. Cas' fingers dig into his hair, pulling his head down so he doesn't have to tiptoe up to reach him, and Dean's fingers clench in the back of his sweater.

They stand there, kissing, for what feels like forever before Cas finally lets his mouth go and smiles up at him. "Hello," he breathes.

Dean grins back, squeezing his waist. "Hello yourself."

"What are you doing here?"

"I finally got the weekend off, and I came straight here as soon as I could."

Cas' fingers trail down his neck to play with the collar of his shirt. "I've missed you as well."

Dean watches Cas play with the buttons on his shirt, content to have him here, standing between his legs with the Impala at their back. Cas looks up at him again, smiling like he can't stop himself. It's a big contrast from his usual stoicism, and Dean would find it weird if it didn't light Cas' face up so bright Dean can't physically look away from him. Cas cocks his head to the side, brows knitting even though he's still grinning. "If you're here, does that mean you..."

Dean grins, pulling the piece of paper out of his back pocket and flashing it to Cas. "Yep, read 'em and weep. That shit took time, but you were right. It was worth it."

Cas takes the paper from him and examines it with a satisfied smile. "I knew you were smart enough to do this. Thank you, Dean." He's still smiling as he looks up at Dean, and Dean's heart stutters in his chest. "Are you staying, then?" Cas asks in a soft, husky voice. He folds the certificate back up and tucks it into Dean's breast pocket for him.

"Yeah, if that's okay. Not for too long, though. I can't leave Dad and Sammy alone together for more than a few days without them killing each other."

"I don't have a lot of space, but you don't mind sleeping on the floor for a night or two, right? Come on, get your bag, and I'll show you my room." He steps back, re-adjusting his bag on his shoulder. Dean gets his duffel out of the trunk, careful not to let Cas see the false bottom. As much as he hates lying to Cas, he's not ready to tell him about hunting yet. He turns to Cas and follows him into the building, eyes glued to his pink-trousered ass. He has absolutely no intention of sleeping on the floor.

"I met your friend Avery," he says as they walk up two flights of stairs.

"Yes, I was reading a very confusing text message from her about meeting my 'hot piece of ass' when I saw you. I didn't know what she was talking about."

Dean doesn't ask what a text message is. "I saw her on the street and asked her for directions to the building." He smirks, knowing this is going to piss Cas off. "She hit on me."

Cas' fingers clench on the banister before he relaxes. "She didn't know who you were. I can't say that she wouldn't try again even knowing. You turned her down, I take it?"

"Of course I did. She might be a juicy steak, but you're a bacon-wrapped cheeseburger, sweetheart. There's no contest."

Cas stops on the stairs and turns a glare on Dean. "Do not call me sweetheart."

"Why not? I call everyone sweetheart," Dean asks in confusion. Standing a step above him, Cas is at eye-level with Dean and practically pressed into his chest with how narrow the steps are.

"Exactly. It loses any meaning it might have had as an endearment."

"Can I call you baby, then? I only call the Impala that, and you know how much she means to me."

Cas studies him for a moment and nods. "That would be acceptable."

"Awesome." Cas is leaning in to kiss him when a feminine voice calls to him from above.

"I guess you found him, then. Or he found you?" They look up to see Avery hopping down the stairs, smiling brightly.

"Yes, Dean was waiting for me in front of the building. I would introduce you, but it appears you've met."

"Not formally. Hi there, I'm Avery Wells." She holds out her hand and Dean shakes it.

"Dean Winchester."

She looks him over again, smirking. "Yes, I know. Cas has told me a lot about you, and I have to say, he did not give your hotness enough credit. His voice might have gotten all low and gravely when he talked about you, but I was not prepared for it. At all." Cas' fingers clench on his shirt—and Dean hadn't even noticed Cas grabbing onto it—when she steps onto his step and right into his personal space, giving him a heated once-over. "Are you really sure you don't want to see my room?" There's a sparkle of amusement in her eyes that makes Dean think she might be teasing.

"Again, as tempting as that sounds, Cas was just about to touch me in my no-no place, so if you'll excuse us, we're going to go up to his room and do that. Right, Cas?"

"Yes, Dean. We'll talk to you later, Avery." Cas pulls Dean up the rest of the staircase by his lapel and brings him to a thick oak door down the hall, letting him go long enough to unlock it before pulling him inside and kissing him dizzy. Dean drops the duffel just inside the door and kicks it closed with his foot. Within minutes they're sprawled out on the bed, Dean's hips nestled between Cas' spread thighs, kissing each other breathless.

They make out until late afternoon, ignoring three knocks to Cas' door and four phone calls to his cell. By the time Cas finally lets him go, it's past five and they're both starving.

"I saw a couple cool bars around the neighborhood while I was looking for the dorm. Wanna go get a drink?"

Cas smiles up at him, chin resting on his breastbone, his stubble scratching Dean's skin pleasantly. "I'd love to, but they're strict about selling alcohol to minors here. There's a diner on State that sells amazing burgers. We could get dinner."

Dean runs his fingers through Cas' hair and smiles. "Use your fake id, dude. No one will question it."

"I don't have a fake id."

Dean sits up as far as he can with Cas laying on his chest. "What do you mean; you don't have a fake id? You're in college, for fuck's sake. Isn't that like… a requirement?"

"Apparently not, since I got in."

"Well, we'll make you one. I have a camera in the trunk we can use to take a picture. We'll have to go to Walgreens to get it developed, but I should have the rest of what I need in the car."

"You can forge ids? But that's illegal."

"Dude, I can do a lot of things you don't want to know about. Forging shit's just the tip of the iceberg." He gently pushes Cas off him with a quick kiss and reaches for his shirt, which somehow ended up on the floor.

"I do not feel comfortable forging an id."

"Come on, Cas. Live a little. Don't you want to get me drunk and have your wicked way with me?" He waggles his eyebrows, which only earns him an eye roll and a light punch in the chest as Cas gets up, too, and picks his t-shirt up from the end of the bed.

"I don't have to get you drunk to have my way with you."

"No, but doesn't it sound fun anyway?"

Cas admits that it sort of does, and they climb into the Impala to find the closest Walgreens. An hour later, Cas has a new id photo and Dean's brought his forging equipment to Cas' room. He's hunched over Cas' desk with a pair of tweezers and one of the pictures when someone knocks on the door. Cas answers and lets Avery and two guys in, introducing them to Dean as Joren and Neil. Avery is on Dean like a moth to flame as soon as she gets in the room, despite the visible hickey on Dean's neck that hadn't been there three hours ago and the very rumpled state of both the bed and Castiel. He ignores her in favor of finishing Castiel's id. He wants a beer, and he wants Cas sitting next to him when he finally gets it. Besides, he knows she's only teasing him, and maybe Cas a little, too.

The guys are impressed with his forging skills, offering to pay him for ids of their own to replace the shitty ones they have now that only work in dark alley clubs, and then only half the time. Avery already has a good one, which doesn't surprise Dean in the least. The three of them end up coming with Dean and Cas to the bar the guys have successfully used their ids in before, and soon Dean is sitting at a high table with Cas next to him and a beer in his hand. Avery turns out to be hilarious when she isn't trying to hit on Dean, and he starts to see why Cas likes her so much. He talks to Joren about the Impala—and the weird foreign dude actually knows what he's talking about—and teaches Cas how to play pool with Neil. Cas is uncomfortably good at pool, even when they get so hammered they're stumbling back eight blocks to the dorm.

Dean's had too much to drink, he knows, and he's all hands when it comes to Cas, which he would care about if Cas wasn't so damn cute drunk. Besides, Cas is cold despite his three layers and that damn trench coat of his, and burrowing into Dean's side seems to be his solution to the problem. Or possibly he's too drunk to walk upright on his own. Dean can't tell and doesn't feel like figuring it out. He pulls Cas in close and leans down to kiss his neck, and Cas giggles, pulling away a little. "Stop, tickles… Mmm, Dean…" Cas' hand travels over Dean's stomach under his shirt, then down past the waist of his jeans and into his boxers.

Dean yelps, not expecting the reach-around. "Cas!" he shouts, eying Joren walking next to them, oblivious in his own drunken stumbling. Cas just keeps giggling and buries his face in Dean's shoulder. His fingers curl around Dean's dick, and pump a few times before Dean has to pry his wrist up and out. "Dude, I have to get you inside, like now."

"Mmm, I want to get you naked and lick you all over," Cas says in his ear, a little too loud to really be considered whispering. Dean coughs and has to blink really fast to keep his vision from blurring because he hasn't even seen Cas without his pants on and now that's all he can think about.

"Whoa, there, too much info, Cas!" Neil calls from behind them, laughing.

"Fuck off, Neil," Cas snaps back, glaring at him over Dean's shoulder.

Finally, they reach the dorm and tumble through the doors. The night clerk eyes them with exasperation, but doesn't comment as they wander over to the elevator and lumber in in a pile of limbs. Avery is laughing at them so hard she's bending over, and Neil is protesting loudly, but Cas doesn't appear to care because he's pushed Dean up against the elevator wall and is kissing him. Dean slides his hands in the back pockets of Cas' pants and squeezes his ass, returning the kiss without care for being watched by the others. In a minute, they're being pushed out of the elevator and somehow make it to the end of the hall to Cas' door and inside before Cas starts pulling his jacket off and pushing him onto the bed.

Dean helps him, happy to get them both naked as soon as physically possible. Cas straddles him shirtless, sucking on his bottom lip. His fingers clamp onto Dean's nipples and tug until Dean makes a loud noise he refuses to call a whimper. The pleasure is blinding. Dean feels dizzy as he digs his fingers into Cas' shoulder blades and pulls him flush, lifting his hips up to rub against Cas. Cas grinds down on him, hard, moaning under his hands. His hips move fast and strong until Dean can't take it anymore and his vision goes white as he comes all over his and Cas' stomachs.

Cas grins against his mouth, drags a finger through the cum on his stomach, and brings it to his lips, licking it off with a gleam in his eye. Dean growls and picks him up, flipping him onto his back on the bed and tugging his pants off. Cas leans back, giggling until Dean has him naked. He snatches a handful of Dean's hair and pulls him up tight, face turning to stone. "I want you to make me come and then clean it up with your tongue."

A shiver runs down Dean's spine and he nods, wincing at the extra pull Cas gives his hair. It's sort of awesome having Cas order him around. He wraps his hand around Cas' dick and pulls up experimentally. He's never actually touched another guy's dick before, but it doesn't feel as weird as he thought it would. He plays with it, watching as Cas twitches above him and writhes when he does something particularly pleasant. He reaches down with his tongue, curious, and flicks it over the wet head. The pre-cum tastes slimy and a little salty, but it doesn't stop Dean from licking again, longer this time and it makes Cas whine under him. He takes another lick, then another, until Cas is grabbing on the pillow and crying out loud enough for his neighbor to hear. Dean grins, happy to make Cas happy, and sucks the head into his mouth. The skin is soft and a little squishy in his mouth, and he sort of likes the way it feels sliding over his tongue.

He loses himself in taking Cas to pieces, bobbing his head over Cas' dick until Cas is a shivering mess. "Fuck, Dean, I'm gonna…" he manages to gasp out just as he explodes in Dean's mouth. Dean pulls off, watching Cas' wrecked expression as he comes. Cas is still trembling under his hands as he starts to lick him clean, just as Cas ordered. Eventually, Cas comes back to reality and smiles down at Dean, running fingers through his hair as Dean licks up every last bit of cum on his skin. Dean presses kisses into his throat, up his chin, to his lips. Cas makes a face for a second before kissing him back, wrapping an ankle around his hip.

Dean pulls away first to look down at Cas, pupils still blown with arousal and hair completely crazy. "You're not gonna make me sleep on the floor now, are you?"

Cas rolls his eyes and pushes Dean's chest. "No, Dean, I'm not going to make you sleep on the floor."

"Awesome. You're awesome."

"Am I?" Cas asks, smiling as Dean kisses him again.

"Yeah, baby, you're totally awesome." Dean murmurs as he keeps pressing kisses to Cas' lips. A while later, Dean settles into Cas' side, head on his shoulder. Cas combs fingers through his hair, turning to kiss his forehead. "Worth the long wait?" Dean asks, brushing fingers down Cas' side.

"Definitely."

* * *

Dean wakes to the obnoxious sound of his phone, muffled in his jacket across the room. He hates that ringtone, but he can't figure out how to change it, and Sam thinks it's hilarious, so he won't help. He ignores it and crowds closer to Cas, tightening his hold on his waist and burying his nose in Cas' hair. Cas smells like alcohol and sex and apples, and Dean wants to eat him a little bit. He's not completely sure he isn't still drunk on Cas' taste from last night. Cas makes an unhappy noise and shifts backwards, curling into Dean. "Your phone is annoying."

"Yeah, it is," Dean grumbles into his shoulder.

"Are you going to answer it?"

"Not if it means I have to get up." The phone stops only long enough for them to both have started to drift back off before it's ringing again. Dean curses under his breath and slips out of bed, walking on unsteady legs over to his jacket and rifling through the pockets until he finds the noisy fucker and opens it. "Yeah?"

"_Why aren't you answering your phone, boy?_"

Dean groans and rubs at his face. The last thing he wants to do is talk to his dad at… fuck, 6:12AM while he's hung over and naked in Cas' dorm room. "I was sleeping."

"_Well, you're awake now, and I need you here. I found a case and I can't take Sam with me._"

"We've been working for three months without a break. You said you'd give me a week," he complains, sitting heavily on the bed. Cas' hand presses into his lower back as he shifts closer in bed.

"_A skinwalker's killing people in Minnesota. You want me to let them die while you play house with some kid in Chicago?_"

Dean knuckles at his eye and sighs. "I didn't tell you where I was going, Dad."

"_I know you, kid. No way you weren't going to see that boyfriend of yours. Don't think we won't be talking about this when I'm done with the skinwalker._"

"Cas isn't my… fine, yeah. I'll be there as soon as I can." He hangs up and drops the phone to the carpet to stare at it for several minutes. Cas strokes his back.

"I take it you have to leave?"

"Yeah, Dad's got a job, and he needs me to take care of Sammy while he's gone," Dean answers, turning to Cas, who pulls him back into bed. Dean doesn't exactly stop him.

"I don't suppose you could bring Sam back here? I'd love to see him."

"I'd love to, but Sammy's still got school, and he's bound and determined to stay in the same one until the end of the school year. He's already yelled himself hoarse about it. I don't want to open that can of worms again." Dean settles into the pillow and runs his fingers down Cas' side.

"You'll come back when you can, right?"

"Yeah, of course. Maybe we can take a road trip this summer? Drive to Seattle or maybe down to New Orleans for a week?"

"I like that idea. I like seeing you in the Impala. You look so… right, there, at home. It's nice."

Dean smiles and kisses him, pushing him onto his back to press him into the mattress. "It's nice here, too. Wish I could stay."

Cas smiles up at him, warm and perfect as he slides his feet up the back of Dean's thighs and plays with his hair like he couldn't stop touching him if he tried. Dean knows the feeling. "I guess I could stay ten more minutes. Dad won't know the difference, right?" He doesn't let Cas answer, just kisses him breathless and buries himself in Cas' mouth for a little while longer.

* * *

Dean is hunched over a book on water creatures when John walks in covered in dried blood and muck. He zeroes in on Dean and glares. "Where's your brother?"

"The library," Dean answers, tensing up.

"Good. I'm taking a shower, and then you and I are going to talk about your little friend." He walks past, and Dean hears the shower running. Dean stares at the page in front of him, but all he can concentrate on is the buzzing noise getting louder inside his head. A few excruciating minutes later, John is out of the bathroom dressed in clean clothes, and is looming over Dean. Dean doesn't look up, but the silence ways heavy on his shoulders. He cracks after three excruciating minutes.

"Castiel isn't my boyfriend. He's just my friend. Last I checked, the world didn't end over a hunter having a non-hunter friend. He has no idea what we do or what goes bump in the night or any of it. He's just a normal guy who I happen to like." He stops, plays back what he's just said in his head. "As a friend. I'm not gay."

John leans over the table to stare at Dean menacingly. "You look pretty queer to me every time you pick that phone up, boy. I raised you with more sense than that. The first rule of hunting: you don't have friends."

"I thought the first rule of hunting was 'Don't get killed'," Dean says before he can stop himself. It earns him a hard slap.

"Don't you sass me, boy. You might not be a kid anymore, but I can still kick your ass."

"Yes, sir. I just don't get what the problem is, I guess. You've got Bobby and Pastor Jim. Why can't I have Cas?"

"Castiel isn't a hunter. Bobby and Pastor Jim are hunters; I can call them if I need back-up. They don't distract me from the job."

"Cas doesn't distract me. I went to see him on my break, and I came back as soon as you asked me to, didn't I?"

"You argued about it."

"I was hungover and tired. It wasn't about Cas."

John stared long and hard, hands clenched on the table in front of him. Dean has to concentrate not to fidget. Finally, John straightens. "You haven't been picking up as many girls lately."

"I've been busy hunting! With you!"

"That's never stopped you before."

"I've never been hunting full-time before. You haven't given me a break since my birthday, and that was four months ago. I barely have time to sleep."

"Excuses."

"Fine, I'll go to the bar and pick up a chick tonight. You're back now, and we're not leaving for at least another week. Sammy's still got school."

John grunts and walks over to the bed and stretches out. "Go ahead. Get that boy out of your head before he poisons you."

Dean squeezes the book he hadn't even realized he was still holding until his knuckles are white. He manages to stay quiet. It wouldn't fix anything to kick and scream like Sammy does.

* * *

Jeannie Benson is blonde and pretty, and she couldn't say yes fast enough when he suggested they find somewhere more private. He makes sure John sees them leaving the bar together.

Rhonda Hurley is dark-haired and blue-eyed and makes him try on her panties. They're pink. And satiny. And Dean's not sure if he likes wearing them more or her ordering him to wear them. Or possibly both. She reminds him a little of Cas. He spends the weekend in her dorm and doesn't wear anything but the panties the whole time.

Ashleigh Wright likes the Impala more than she likes Dean, but she still puts out in the backseat, so he doesn't care. It's not the best sex he's ever had, but John doesn't narrow his eyes later when he catches Dean on the phone with Cas, so it's worth it.

Gretchen Moore is the unfortunate victim of a vengeful spirit. She is very grateful for Dean's help. Very grateful.

Nancy Krei is a mother of two and, frankly, old enough to be Dean's mother. But she gives awesome head, and she's willing to let him try anal on her. She also doesn't mind when he tells her about Cas and how he thinks he might be bisexual. She offers to call a friend of hers who's also bisexual for a threesome. Dean's hesitant at first, worried that his dad might find out, and also that he might be cheating on Cas if he has sex with another guy. Not that they're in any way exclusive, and not that he hasn't already told Cas he's sleeping with women or why. It just feels a bit more like a betrayal this way. He decides not to do anal with the guy and agrees. Frank's in his thirties and hot as fuck, and it takes all of Dean's willpower not to agree to Frank fucking him when Frank buries three fingers in his ass. Instead, he blows Frank while fucking Nancy, and it's not quite as awesome as blowing Cas, but it's still not gross.

Keri Byrne gives him shit from the moment he steps up next to her at the bar, and he doesn't think he's going to get her number. Which is why he's surprised when she asks him to take her home an hour later. The sex is… aggressive. And kind of awesome. She shoves him onto his hands and knees and spanks him before licking his hole and fingering him until he almost comes, before pushing him onto his back and riding him like a fucking pro. He hasn't been this turned on since he had Cas naked underneath him. It's a good thing when she kicks him out two hours later without giving him her number because he might have been tempted to call her for another round.

Lindsey Smith is a disappointment coming off of Keri. She makes pornstar noises and likes to watch herself in the mirror as Dean takes her from behind. He barely takes time to throw the condom away before he's getting dressed and out the door.


	6. Chapter 6: Road Trip

**Title: **The Trenchcoat Avenger of Truman High

**Author:** rons_pigwidgeon**  
**

**Pairing:** Dean Winchester/Castiel

**Rating: **NC17

**Warnings: **Masturbation, Underage Drinking, Phone Sex, Anal Fingering, Anal Plug, Sex Toys, Blow Jobs in a Car, Car Sex, Sex in the Impala, Bathroom Sex, Hand Jobs

**Chapter Summary: **Dean and Sam take Castiel on a road trip to Seattle. On the way, he is introduced to such exotic wonders as Bobby Singer's house (and Bobby Singer himself), hustling pool in biker bars, cheap motel rooms, and drunken sex in the Impala.

**Author's Note: **Unbetaed chapter for now. If you see any grammar/spelling issues, please let me know, and expect a re-post with edits sometime soon.

Please note that additional tags have been added to the story's description.

* * *

The apartment is only slightly less swanky than the dorm was, but Dean doesn't really plan on seeing much of it. Sam is looking at it like he can't believe what he's seeing. "Cas lives here?"

"Apparently. He moved in a couple weeks ago, says he doesn't want to move all his stuff back to Ohio just to come back again in the fall."

"This is… really nice. Do you think it looks this nice inside?"

"Probably. Let's find out." He heads up to the front door, but pauses before reaching for the bell to turn to Sam. "Remember, Cas doesn't know anything about hunting. We cannot say anything to him, and under no circumstances does he get anywhere near the trunk, got it?"

Sam rolls his eyes. "Of course, Dean. Do I look stupid?"

Dean shrugs and rings the bell with Linn-Mathews on it.

"_Hello?_" Avery's voice crackles through the call box.

"Hey, Avery, it's Dean."

"_Hey, hottie. Here to whisk Cas away for a few weeks of hot sweaty man-sex?_"

Dean glares at the speaker. "Can you just buzz us in, damnit?" The buzzer sounds amid peals of laughter. Dean jerks the door open and goes inside, waiting for Sam and leading him up the stairs to the apartment number Cas gave him. The door opens before they can knock, and Cas is standing there in plaid shorts and a v-neck t-shirt that makes him look both very gay and very hot. Dean has to push the urge to kiss him hello down deep in his gut. "Hey, Cas."

"Hello, Dean. Hello, Sam." He reaches up to hug Dean, arms slinking up around his neck as he pulls him in. Dean doesn't think it's his imagination that Cas doesn't have to reach quite as high anymore, and his shoulders feel a little broader under Dean's hands. Dean really, really wants to kiss him, but he manages to quell the urge with a quick kiss to Cas' throat that hopefully Sammy can't see.

"Kiss him and get it over with. Jesus, we all know you're fucking. Might as well get a free show out of it," comes Avery's voice from behind Cas. Dean looks past Cas to find her leaning against the door jam in the lowest-cut top he's ever seen outside a bar and short shorts that would make the Spice Girls blush, smirking at him.

"Christ, Avery, could you not be crazy for like two seconds? You're going to scar my little brother for life," Dean grumbles as Cas lets him go to pull said brother into a decidedly more platonic hug of his own. Sam's eyes look like a bug's they're so big, but Cas pats his back and glares back at Avery.

"Please ignore my friend, Sam. She is not often permitted in company for obvious reasons."

"Are you guys really…?" Sam manages. He still looks like someone pulled the bottom out of his world.

"Don't worry about it, Sammy. She's just teasing." Dean ruffles Sam's hair and pulls him in to give him a noogie that manages to distract him enough to drop it, whining at Dean about not playing fair. Dean knows they'll have to talk about it later, but for now, they're fine. "Got your bag, Cas? We were hoping to get to South Dakota by tonight."

"Are we going to Mount Rushmore? I've always wanted to see it," Cas asks as he steps back into the apartment, nudging Avery out of the way. She's eying Dean like he might do for dinner. Dean rolls his eyes at her.

"Sure, whatever you want. Sammy and I have pretty much seen all of it before, haven't we, Sammy?"

Sam pushes him for the nickname but nods, smiling. "It'll be fun to see it with you, though, Cas. We never really get to go places just for fun."

"All that driving around and you've never gotten to enjoy anything you've seen?" Avery asks.

Dean and Sam pass a look to each other and shake their heads. "Dad's always got a job to do," Sam offers as Cas steps back into the hall with a rolling suitcase that's as violently colored plaid as his shorts. Dean tries not to make a face.

"What's your dad do?" Avery asks, leaning her head against the door jam.

"He's a mechanic," Sam says. Dean catches him glancing down at her breasts and smirks to himself.

"And he drives all over the country doing that?" She's too damn smart for her own good, and Dean remembers why he sometimes doesn't like her.

Cas saves them by kissing her cheek, and saying, "We should go. I'll be back in a few weeks. Don't have sex on my bed."

"I make no promises, Novak," she grins before glaring at Dean. "You take care of that little nerd for me. If he doesn't come back in one piece, we're going to have words, got it?"

"Don't worry, he's safe as houses with me. See you in a few weeks."

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" she calls after them as they retreat down the hall.

"That doesn't leave much!" Cas calls back, grinning at her over his shoulder.

"Damn straight! Remember, condoms are your friend!"

"AVERY!" They hear her giggling maniacally as they descend to the ground floor and out of the building.

"She's interesting," Sam says, still making a face from the condoms comment.

"Sam, put Cas' bag in the trunk," Dean says, unlocking the passenger door for Cas. Sam takes the suitcase and the keys thrown to him, eying the open door. Dean's going to hear about not letting him ride shotgun later, but he doesn't care, because he's got Cas pressed up against the car and is kissing him as soon as the trunk blocks Sam's view. Cas mmms against his lips and squeezes his arm before he gets in, just as the trunk slams shut and Sam tosses the keys back to Dean. Dean circles the car, still licking the taste of Cas from his lips. He tastes like milk and Apple Jacks and that damn apple shampoo he uses is going to drive Dean crazy someday. Dean slides into the driver's seat and turns the car on. Sammy's leaning over the divider with his chin on his hands, telling Cas about something Dean didn't catch.

"All right, Sam, what's the rule?"

"Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his pie hole," Sam replies, making a bitchface at Dean in the rear-view mirror.

"That's right. Are we ready?"

"Yes, I believe so," Cas answers, smiling over at Dean. He looks a little mussed and golden in the sunshine and it leaves warm things in Dean's belly. He grins back at him and turns the car on, letting the sound of 'Thunderstruck' fill the interior up as he pulls out of his spot and they head west.

* * *

They're half-way to Bobby's when Sam finally asks the question Dean was hoping he wouldn't. So far, Cas has been telling them about school and his friends and how much he likes Chicago, while Sam asks questions and Dean cracks the occasional joke, but they've hit a lull in conversation, and Sam it seems wants to fill it in the most awkward way possible.

"So, are you guys really having sex?"

Dean has to fight not to swerve the car into the next lane in shock, and Cas laughs so hard he starts choking. "Jesus, Sammy! What the hell?"

"Well, I was wondering. Avery said you were, and she doesn't seem like a liar. And I'm not stupid. I've seen you kissing before."

"When have you ever seen us kiss?" Dean asks, slightly panicked. This was a conversation he was really hoping not to have.

"Just before we left Truman, and then again when I was putting Cas' suitcase away I saw you push him against the car."

"I was just teasing him."

"I know what kissing sounds like, Dean."

"You're right, Sam, we were kissing. And we have had sex… of a sort, before." Cas turns in his seat, all earnest and serious, to look Sam straight in the eyes. "But I promise you that we will not touch each other in that way while on this trip if that makes you uncomfortable."

Dean glances in the rear-view to see Sammy's face and finds relief there. "Thanks, Cas. It doesn't bother me, I just wanted to know. Just… not while I'm in the room, okay?" He pauses, then looks at Dean through the mirror. "Does Dad know?"

Dean clenches his fingers around the steering wheel. "No, and we are not telling him, understand? He doesn't need to know."

"What about Uncle Bobby? Aren't we sleeping at his house tonight?"

"Yeah, I don't know, what do you think?"

"Bobby Singer, your father's friend?" Cas asks, turning towards Dean so he can speak to them both at the same time.

"Yeah, he lives outside Sioux Falls. I called him yesterday to tell him we were going through South Dakota, and he wants us to stay with him tonight. He wants to meet you, but I didn't tell him about… us." Dean hesitates, glancing sideways at Cas. They've never actually talked about what they're doing with this, and Dean's not sure he wants to talk about it now.

"I don't think he'll care. Uncle Bobby loves you. I think he wants you to be happy, no matter what," Sam says, all sincerity and puppies.

"You think he'll tell Dad?"

"No. Remember that time he let us skip the shooting range and took us to a baseball game instead? He never told Dad about that."

"You're right. I guess we can play it by ear, then. Cas?"

"I think that sounds like a good plan. I'm excited to meet this man. You speak very highly of him."

Dean smiles. "Yeah, Bobby's pretty awesome." He launches into a story about Bobby that has Cas laughing and sparks a different story out of Sam. By the time they pass from Iowa to South Dakota, they've been telling him edited stories about Bobby for six hours. Cas is laughing over the story of Bobby trying to make gingerbread cookies and nearly starting a grease fire when they pull up to the house.

"But, why was there even any grease involved? You don't fry gingerbread cookies."

"Please try to tell Bobby that. I'd love to see his face," Sam says, laughing in the back seat.

"You can tell him now; we're here," Dean says, parking the car in front of the house. They haven't even gotten out of the car before the front door opens and Bobby comes out, looking cranky as ever, but still mostly happy to see them.

"Well, look what the cat dragged in. And you brought a stray with you this time, didja? He better not have fleas."

Dean rolls his eyes at Cas over the hood to show him Bobby is joking. Cas looks serious and shadowed under the flood lights. Sammy laughs and runs to give Bobby a hug. "Hey, Uncle Bobby, it's good to see you," he says into Bobby's shirt. He's still half-a-head shorter than Bobby and currently looks more like an eight-year-old than a fifteen-year-old. Dean has to resist the urge to roll his eyes. He catches Cas around the neck as they round the car, and Cas gives him an annoyed look but lets him drag him over to Bobby anyway.

"Hey Bobby, this is Castiel Novak. Cas, this is Bobby."

Cas slides out from under Dean's arm and holds his hand out. "Hello, sir, it's a pleasure to meet you. Dean and Sam have been telling me excellent things about you for the last several hours."

Bobby shakes his hand and shoots a look at Dean. "Yeah, I'm sure they've been telling you all kinds of stories. You hungry? It's a long drive from Chicago."

"We stopped for dinner a few hours ago, thank you."

"Well, let's get inside, and you can tell me about yourself, Cas. Dean says you go to some fancy college in Chicago."

Castiel smiles at Bobby and lets him lead him into the house, Sam following after. "The University of Chicago. I'm studying Linguistics. It's quite thrilling. Dean says you are quite the linguist yourself…" Dean loses track of what they're saying while he goes back to get their bags out of the car. By the time he gets inside, they're all settled in the family room, and Sam's talking about his perfect report card like it's his first girlfriend or something. Bobby's in his recliner, beer in hand, Sam and Cas are on the couch, Sam with a coke, Cas with a beer he still looks confused that Bobby served him. There's another beer sitting next to Cas' and Dean guesses it's his. He crowds Cas over on the couch and grabs his beer.

"There are quite a few weapons around," Cas murmurs to Dean.

Dean puts an arm over the back of the couch, fluffing Cas' hair as he does, and takes a gulp of beer. "Bobby likes to hunt on the weekends. Just assume it's all loaded and you'll be fine."

"Listen to him, Cas. I like hunting, and I don't like to unload. Don't touch any of it unless you know what to do with it," Bobby confirms.

Cas nods, still looking around the room. "You have an interesting book collection, Bobby. May I?" He moves to stand, and Bobby lets him after hesitating a moment, giving Dean a look as he gets up that Dean hopes Cas didn't see. He knows Bobby's going to want to talk to him later. Thank god he's already spun a tale to Cas about how Bobby was a PhD candidate in the occult before his wife died. Cas had sort of bought it in the car. Dean's hoping Bobby can figure the story out without a pow-wow, in case Cas asks—which he will because Cas always asks.

Cas starts looking through Bobby's books, pulling one out in a language Dean can't even begin to identify. "So, wanna watch a movie?" he asks, looking to Bobby. Bobby gives him the facial equivalent of _Idjit_ and gets up to wheel the tv in from the bedroom.

* * *

Cas is all limbs, curled around Dean like a goddamn tentacle monster. Dean opens his eyes and winces, not quite ready to be awake yet. He glances up and sees Bobby sitting at his chair, feet propped up on the desk, watching Dean over his coffee mug. Shit.

"Somethin' you wanna tell me about Cas?"

Dean groans, "No," and buries his face in his pillow.

"Wrong answer."

He sighs and starts gently prying Cas off him, trying not to wake him. Cas mumbles in his sleep and turns over, pushing back into Dean. Dean takes the opportunity to slip off the sofa bed, and stretches. "Can I get coffee first?"

"Coffee won't make this conversation go away, boy."

"No, but it's too early for alcohol, and I'm gonna need something to get me through." He turns and goes into the kitchen. It takes him way longer than it should to pour a cup of coffee, he knows, but he doesn't care. He downs the first one like it's a shot of whiskey, ignoring that he's almost scalded his throat, and pours another cup before finally trudging back to the living room. Bobby's drinking his coffee like he's got all the time in the world. Cas has stretched out on the sofa bed and hasn't left much room if Dean wants to crawl back in. One look at Bobby and he knows that won't be happening. He circles the desk and leans against it next to Bobby's feet.

"Well?"

"Cas is… Cas and I… we sort of have a… thing, I guess."

"You don't say. I'm guessing your daddy don't know."

"He… he thought we were, but I convinced him we weren't. He wasn't exactly… happy, about the whole… guy thing."

"And the fact that Cas isn't a hunter and doesn't know anything about hunting wouldn't have anything to do with that."

"I've never had a… thing… with someone who did."

"Cas is smart. He's gonna figure something out. Just a matter of time."

"So, he figures it out. So what? There are plenty of people we save who find out about it. We let them have a pass. Why can't Cas?"

"It's not safe, Dean."

"Yeah, well, he's safe with me. So, are you okay with this or…?"

Bobby scoffs at him. "Boy, I don't care who you roll around with. Just don't be doin' it in my house, got it?"

"Yeah, Bobby, I got it. Thanks."

Bobby pats him on the shoulder and gets up to walk into the kitchen. "Breakfast'll be up in a minute. Wake Sleeping Beauty, will ya?" He turns his back on the room and starts padding around in the kitchen. Dean turns to look at Cas, sprawled out. He still looks hot, even drooling on Dean's pillow—especially drooling on Dean's pillow. Dean circles the desk again and settles back in the bed, stealing the pillow Cas isn't laying on and propping himself up so he can drink his coffee while Cas once more wraps himself around Dean's legs, using his thigh as a headrest instead of the drool-covered pillow. He makes a muffled pleased sound and burrows closer.

"I smell coffee," he rasps.

Dean swirls his cup near Cas' face before taking a drink. "Bobby's making breakfast."

"I heard him. He's right, you know. I will figure it out."

Dean freezes, shutting his eyes and clenching his jaw. "Leave it, babe. Believe me, you don't want to know."

"Bobby has an interesting book collection."

"Cas."

Cas starts to sit up, stretching his back and yawning wide. He looks at Dean seriously when he's finally sitting. It's not the sort of serious Dean really wants leveled on him. "Why do you hide from me? There's nothing you could tell me that would push me away."

"I'm a serial killer, Cas," Dean deadpans before the scary enormity of what Cas has just told him threatens to choke him.

Cas rolls his eyes. "No, you're not. You aren't a psychopath. You don't fit the profile."

Dean smirks over his coffee and pushes the other thoughts away. "I'm kind of a psychopath."

"Dean."

Dean rolls his eyes at the look Cas is giving him and leans over to kiss him. "Relax, dude, I'm not really a serial killer or a psychopath. But that's all you get. Don't go poking."

"But you poke me all the time."

"You're fun to poke." Dean pokes him in the side with a sly smile, liking the look of annoyed amusement that Cas' face turns into before Dean's dipping to kiss him again. Cas kisses back, curling fingers into his hair and pulling him closer. A pan gets knocked a little too loudly in the kitchen, and Dean pulls away, glancing at Bobby giving him the evil eye from the kitchen. No sex in the house, right, that probably means no making out where Bobby can see it either. He pecks Cas once more and doesn't complain when Cas steals his coffee cup and drinks the rest of it down.

* * *

"Are you a demon-worshiper?"

"What did I say about poking?" Dean pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a deep breath. He shouldn't have let Cas look at Bobby's book collection. Sam's asleep in the back, thank god.

"I want to know you, Dean. You tell me so many things about your family life, but nothing about what you and your father do for a living. I'm sorry if I'm being invasive, but I want to know everything about you. You know everything about me, don't you?" Cas' fingers creep over his thigh and squeeze.

"Cas, this is… I'm not allowed to talk about this. It's for your own safety. Could you just drop it, please?"

Cas is quiet for a minute, and Dean hopes that maybe he'll listen this time. Of course, he knows better. Cas is more persistent than a dog after a bone when he wants something. "Are you in the mob? Is that why your father gave you his car when you turned eighteen? Did you officially join the Family?"

"You caught me. Just call me Vito."

"No, that can't be right. You can't be a hero working for the mob, not matter how you contort your motivations. You also wouldn't be moving all over the place. And it doesn't explain all the hunting references or those occultist books of Bobby's."

Dean stares at the dark road ahead of him, hoping Cas will get tired and change the subject. He is surprised when he hears the click of Cas' seatbelt being released, and Cas curls into Dean's side, resting his head on Dean's shoulder. Dean lifts his arm over Cas and wraps it around his shoulders.

"Neil can't stop talking about how much he likes the ID you made him," Cas says quietly into his chest.

Dean fluffs his hair, grinning. "Is he buying all kinds of booze now?"

"Yes. The fridge has an entire shelf dedicated exclusively to Miller Light. It's disturbing."

"Happy to be an enabler."

Cas pinches his side, but doesn't say anything further. A few minutes later Dean hears soft snuffling noises and looks down to find him asleep. He smiles to himself and keeps driving.

* * *

Dean likes watching Cas in dive bars. They're at a tiny bar on the outskirts of Spokane. Cas is perched on the very edge of his stool, glancing uncomfortably at the other patrons. The only time he doesn't look uncomfortable is while he devours his burger. Dean glances at Sam and smirks at him. Sam just smiles and eats another fry. "Drink your beer, Cas." Dean says, pushing Cas' beer closer to him.

"Do they have a straw?"

"Babe, drink it. It's not poison, I promise."

Cas glares, but takes a drink, and then another. It isn't long before he's loosening up. Dean buys him another beer. He's giggling by the time it's empty and leaning into Dean, smiling at Sam like a sappy puppy. "You're brother's trying to get me drunk."

"Looks like he's doing more than trying," Sam responds, smirking over his coke.

"I think you're right."

"Wanna play some pool now that you don't care about the germs in this place?" Dean asks.

"Cas knows how to play pool?"

"Of course. Dean taught me the last time I saw him," Cas tells Sam, standing up. Dean follows, mostly because of the wobbling.

"You know… how would you feel about playing a stranger? For money?" Dean asks, remembering how good Cas was the last time.

"But I want to play against you. I can't touch you inappropriately if I'm playing against a stranger," Cas says, running his hand up Dean's chest in a caress.

Dean chuckles, catching Cas' hand and turning him around, pulling his back close to Dean's chest by that same hand. "Sam, meet drunk-and-handsy-Cas . Drunk-and-handsy-Cas, meet my little brother."

"Hell-ohh," Cas says, drawing out the O in an exaggerated slur as he waves at Sam with a goofy smile. Sam just laughs and shakes his head.

"Come on, let's find a victim for your adorable charms." Dean directs Cas towards the pool tables.

"I am not adorable."

"You are _so_ adorable." Dean parks Cas in front of an empty table and pats his shoulder. "Okay, I'm going to go get us another round. I want you to look innocent and start asking the guys around here to play you. Tell them you're friends say you're so bad they don't want to play you. And if you find someone before I get back, play to lose."

"What, why? I'm good at pool, Dean. You even said so."

"I know, dude, that's why I told you to suck. You'll suck the first round, then ask for a re-match and bet the guy a hundred bucks you can beat him. And then do."

Cas squints at him, grabbing onto his shirt front and leaning into his personal space a little bit more than he probably should in a bar full of drunk bikers. "Are we hustling pool?"

"Yes, we most certainly are."

"I'm not comfortable lying to strangers, Dean."

"I'll suck you off when we get back to the hotel, after Sammy goes to sleep."

Cas scoffs at him. "You were going to do that anyway."

"Oh, I was, was I?"

"Yes, while fucking me with your fingers."

All the blood in his head makes a hasty charge to his lower extremity, and he has to hold onto the pool table to keep upright in the rush. "Jesus, Cas, talk like that any more and I'm gonna have to drag you to the bathroom and have my way with you now."

"Mmm, I wouldn't object."

Dean groans and gnashes his teeth together to stop the urge to lift Cas onto the pool table and take him right there. "I'm going to get us another beer. You find someone to play pool with. I'll be back in a minute." Dean walks away, heading back to the bar. He can still hear Cas for a few feet, already walking up to the nearest biker.

"Hello, sir, I was wondering if you might like to play a game of pool against me? My friends refuse to play with me because they say I'm terrible, but I really want to play a few rounds."

Dean hears the biker's deep laugh just as he reaches the bar. When he comes back with two beers and another coke for Sammy, who has gravitated to the pool table to watch, Cas is leant over the table, failing to hit the ball for the second time. The guy he's playing against is taller than Dean, packed tight with muscle, and covered in tattoos of pin-up girls and Harley Davidson symbols. Dean pulls a stool up next to Sam's and parks himself, handing Sam his drink.

"Is Cas really any good at pool?" Sam asks in a whisper.

"Better than Vinnie Markowitz."

"Wow. This should be fun."

"Yep." They settle in to watch. After Cas loses his first game horribly, he offers the bet and saunters over to Dean while the other guy sets the table up. He's grinning stupidly as he steps between Dean's spread knees and takes possession of his beer.

"Am I doing well?"

"Awesome, babe; you're doing just what you're supposed to. Kicks his ass this round, and we'll be up a hundred bucks."

"And then you'll suck me off?" Cas asks, blinking up at Dean with innocent eyes.

Dean should probably be less shocked by the statement than he is; it's not like Cas exactly has a filter while drunk. Dean hears Sam's gasp of indignation beside him. "Cas, watch it! Sensitive ears here."

Cas looks at Sam like he's never seen him before. "I'm sorry, Sam. I forgot you were there. If I win this game, your brother is going to suck me off in the car while you're asleep." He grins a happy, drunken grin and takes a deep drink from his beer.

Sam is coughing now, sounding like he's going to hack up a lung any second.

"Cas, language! Poor Sammy doesn't need to hear about what we do when he's not around."

"But I didn't curse, Dean."

Dean shakes his head, trying not to laugh at the earnest look Cas is giving him. He ruffles Cas' hair and nudges him backwards. "Go play pool before you traumatize Sammy for life. Your friend looks like he's ready for you anyway."

"Okay, but you owe me."

"Don't worry, I always pay my debts."

"I'll hold you to that." Cas gives him a hard look before sauntering back over to the pool table just in time to take his first shot. He sinks his first ball without even blinking at it. The biker looks shocked, as does Sam, who looks from Cas to Dean and back again.

"Did he just…" Sam whispers in awe.

"That's my boy," Dean murmurs, grinning into his glass. "Makes up for the childhood trauma, doesn't it?" An hour later, Cas has an extra four hundred in his pocket from two rematches, and Dean's leading him out under his arm, Sam trailing in their wake.

Cas is grinning ear-to-ear. "That was amazing! Did you see his face when I sunk that last eight ball? I thought he was going to have a heart attack!" he exclaims, all but bouncing on his toes in excitement.

"It was awesome, man! I only wish we could have you around more often. We'd be rolling in it." Dean grins back, pressing a sweaty kiss to Cas' temple. The heated look Cas shoots him keeps him pleasantly warm as they reach the motel.

"That was really cool, Cas! I've never seen someone play that well before, and this was only your second time, right?"

"Third, I played with my college friends a month or so ago. Kicked their asses, too."

"You should play professionally."

"He just did," Dean reminds him, fishing in Cas' pocket for the cash and waving it in Sam's face. Cas snatches the money back and stuffs it back in his pocket.

"My money, thank you."

"Our money. I told you what to do, and we need it to pay for the motels on the way back."

"Can we do it again?"

"I thought you didn't like lying to people," Dean teases, smirking.

Cas pulls the key from his other pocket and unlocks the motel room door for them. "I don't, but I also don't like being underestimated. I don't mind taking advantage of people when they think they can take advantage of me."

"No offense, Cas, but you do look like someone who would suck at pool. You can't really blame them for underestimating you," Sam says, making a beeline to his bed and pulling pajamas from his duffel.

Cas looks down at himself and then up at Sam, turning his head sideways in confusion. "Why do I look like someone who would not excel at pool? I am highly intelligent and have studied physics extensively."

"Yeah, but they're bikers. They don't know any of that. You're short and you look like you're my age. And you wobble when you're drunk. Easy pickings as far as they're concerned."

"Which is why we kick their asses and take their money, right Sammy?" Dean says, patting Sam on the back on the way to the bathroom.

"Right," Sam replies as he starts getting undressed and into his pajamas. "Don't take too long. I want to brush my teeth."

"Out in a second," Dean says as he closes the door. By the time he comes back out, Sam's in his pajamas and waiting with his toothbrush and toothpaste at the door. Cas is staring at his open suitcase like he can't decide what to do with it. Sam slides into the bathroom past Dean and shuts the door like he needs privacy to brush his fucking teeth, but whatever.

Dean takes the opportunity to sidle up behind Cas and pull him close, kissing the side of his neck. "Get dressed like you're going to bed. We'll sneak out to the car as soon as Sam's asleep," he breathes into Cas' ear, licking the outer ridge.

Cas makes a little whining noise and drops his head to the side to give him more access, his hands coming up to twine with Dean's across his waist. "Why do we need to sneak? Sam knows we're going to the car to have sex."

"Right, 'cause us just leaving for the car with a goodnight and a don't-wait-up wouldn't be awkward as hell."

"I don't think so. He knows what's happening. He's old enough to understand, and he's already said it doesn't bother him as long as we don't do it in front of him. How do you normally address leaving him to hook up with someone?"

"Call him and tell him not to wait up. But those are strangers. This is different."

"I don't think it is."

"You're too logical. Fine, get in your pajamas anyway. I don't want to wake him up when we come back in trying to get ready for bed."

"You just want to see me naked with the lights on," Cas scoffs, making a face at Dean over his shoulder.

"Mmm, you caught me. I can't resist that tight little ass of yours." He swoops in to steal a kiss before Cas can yell at him for vulgar language or something. Cas hums into his mouth as he turns around, raising up on his toes to meet Dean's mouth. Dean takes the opportunity to squeeze Cas' ass through his shorts, pulling him in close. Cas starts giggling, pulling away when he can't stop and falling into Dean's chest. He's still giggling as the bathroom door opens, and Sam comes out, looking very confused.

"You two okay?"

"I think Cas might be a lot drunker than he appears," Dean tries to explain.

"No, I'm fine, I promise," Cas assures, still giggling as he wiggles out of Dean's arms and pulls pajamas out of his suitcase. He stumbles on the way to the bathroom, busting out in more giggles.

"Yeah, you look fine. Need any help in there?"

"You would just loooove to help me, Winchester."

"Of course I would, babe." Dean goes to follow only to have the door shut in his face. Sam's laughing at him when he turns around. He glares at his little brother and roughs his hair up while pushing him towards his bed. "Yeah, yeah, go to bed."

"God, you're such a jerk," Sam shouts, pushing him away.

"Bitch," Dean snaps back. Sammy just grins at him and crawls in bed, shaking his head. He grabs his book and opens it like he's going to be up reading for a while and has no intention of going to sleep any time soon. Dean goes to his duffel and starts changing, eying Sammy over the bed. He doesn't think Drunky McGrabby-Hands is going to be able to keep things chaste if they have to get in bed together and wait Sammy out.

_This is gonna be awkward._ "If I tell you Cas and I are gonna go have sex in the car, are you gonna be a man about it?"

Sam makes the bitch face to end all bitch faces. "Dean, seriously? Can't you just say you're going to get ice together like normal people?"

"Yep, that's what we're gonna do. In our pajamas. For at least half an hour, probably longer considering how drunk Cas is."

Sam continues to bitch-face. "Great, now I have that image stuck in my head. I hate you."

"Back atcha," Dean says with a wink just as the bathroom door opens and Cas comes out in his Leave-It-to-Beaver pajamas. "Ready?"

Cas frowns, glancing at Sam. Dean just shrugs. Cas deposits his folded clothes on top of his suitcase, and meets Dean by the bed. "I'm ready for bed, yes."

"Awesome. Night, Sammy," Dean says, wrapping his arm around Cas' shoulder and turning him towards the door.

"Night guys. Enjoy getting your… ice," Sam answers, faking a smile. Dean has to resist the urge to laugh.

"Ice?" Cas asks, looking up at Dean with big blue eyes.

"Just say goodnight, Cas."

"Good night, Sam. Sleep well. We'll try not to wake you when we come back with the… ice."

"Thanks, Cas. Good night."

Dean doesn't waste anymore time pulling Cas onto the sidewalk, palming the keys on the way out. "But Dean, you forgot the ice bucket…"

"We're not getting ice, Cas."

"But Sam said…"

Dean just shakes his head and opens the car door. "Don't worry about Sam, babe. Don't you want your reward for kicking so much ass at pool?"

Cas stops looking back at the door and focuses on Dean. "My reward? You mean do I want you to suck me off while you finger me until I come? Yes, I would like that very much."

Dean groans and drops his head forward onto Cas' shoulder, smiling as Cas presses kisses to his neck. "That mouth of yours is going to kill me one day…" Cas giggles, licking under his chin. Dean never would have expected a year's worth of phone sex to be worth it, but damn.

"I like it when you turn pink."

Dean glares down at him, gently pushing him towards the open door. "I do not turn pink, asshole. Do you want a blowjob or not?"

"Of course, Dean." He turns and crawls into the backseat, wiggling his adorable pinstriped ass as he does.

Dean slaps his wiggling ass, laughing at the glare he gets in return as he climbs in after Cas. "Couldn't help it. Your cute little ass was begging for a slap."

"You will come to regret it, Winchester."

Dean crowds him back against the seat and nips at his lip. "Do you know how hot you are when you call me Winchester?"

"Why are you still talking? There are better uses for your mouth right now."

"Damn, Cas." Dean pushes Cas' pajamas top up high enough to lean down and lap at a nipple. Cas arches into his mouth, clenching fingers into Dean's hair to hold him against his chest. Dean nips at the little nub, humming as Cas hisses and pulls his hair. He bites harder, tugging a little, and Cas curses and shoves his head further down his chest.

"I'm not interested in foreplay. Suck my cock already," Cas growls, pulling harder at Dean's hair. There's no arguing with that; Dean's hands are already working Cas' pajamas pants down while he flicks his tongue at the head of Cas' dick. The pre-come is still slimy, but he likes the taste of it better this time. He settles his elbows around Cas' hips and licks up his shaft. Cas shifts his hips closer, humming. Dean smiles, watching Cas' face melt with pleasure as he sucks the head into his mouth. He closes his eyes as he starts sucking Cas down, concentrating on the taste of him.

Cas makes an impatient noise and shoves him up into a crouch, pulling at his t-shirt. "Take this stupid thing off. I want to feel you." He has the shirt off in another few seconds and pushes Dean's head back down. Dean chuckles to himself as he gets back to work, not wasting time in sucking Cas back down. Cas takes one of Dean's hands into his and brings Dean's first two fingers into his mouth, sucking on them and coating them with his saliva. When they're nice and wet, he pushes them down. "Inside me, now," he rasps, tilting his head back so all Dean can see is his chin.

"No 'please'?" Dean asks, trailing wet, sloppy open-mouthed kisses up Cas' shaft. He drags the two wet fingertips over the clenching skin of Cas' pucker, teasing it.

Cas' fingernails dig into his hairline. "Fuck off and fuck me." Dean grins to himself and gently prods the first finger in, nice and slow. It slides with more ease than he'd thought it would, and he gets a momentary image of Cas naked and stuffed full with his plug. He groans and pushes the finger all the way in to the third knuckle, and Cas makes a loud keening noise and arches his hips into Dean's hand. Dean crooks the finger, curious. It had felt good to him when Keri did it. Apparently, it was universal because Cas calls out his name and digs his nails harder into Dean's scalp. "Just like that, yeah… Fuck, _Dean_…"

Dean likes hearing his name spill out of Cas' mouth in that dirty, needy way. He pushes a second finger in along with the first, having to work a little more to get them both in before he can bend them slightly to stroke at the little bump he can feel just inside. He suspects the bump might be Cas' prostate, and the way Cas is practically crying above him convinces him it is. He teases it mercilessly, driving Cas closer and closer to orgasm, until Cas is a trembling mess underneath him, shooting string after string of cum into Dean's mouth.

Dean slurps at the messy head of Cas' cock, sucking down hard on the shaft and listening as Cas cries out above him. Cas' bare feet have curled over his shoulder blades and his toes clench at Dean's skin. His chest is heaving from the effort to breathe. He looks like a filthy mess, and Dean wants to eat him. Slowly, he pulls his fingers out, wiping them on the dirty rag shoved under the seat. He does his best to lick Cas clean of his cum while Cas' breathing slowly evens out. Eventually, Cas sits up, watching him with a look of wonder. Dean shifts uncomfortably on his knees, the hard floor of the Impala cutting into his skin.

"You like that?" Dean asks, smirking because he's already sure of the answer. Cas doesn't give one, just pulls Dean closer and kisses him breathless. He hand travels down Dean's bare chest and abdomen, starts plucking at the drawstring of his sweatpants. It's a relief when Cas finally frees his erection from the confines of his boxer-briefs. Cas' fingers are hot and tight around him, stroking with purpose. Dean's a little far gone to care that it's a chafing, until he does and has to pull away for a second. "Hold on," he mumbles, spitting in his hand and taking over Cas' stroking for a few second.

Cas wrinkles his nose and buries his face in Dean's shoulder. "That is unsanitary," he says as he reaches for Dean's dick again.

"Dude, I just had my fingers up your ass. You're really gonna get a little squeamish about spit?" Dean asks, chuckling. He nuzzles into Cas' hairline, smiling, his breath catching a little as Cas squeezes him hard.

"I should have gotten the lubricant from my suitcase," Cas answers.

"You brought lube with you?"

"Of course I did. I knew we'd be having sex."

"Oh you did, did you? A little presumptuous, don't you think?" Dean teases. Cas huffs a laugh and lifts his mouth to Dean's again, pushing him onto his back on the bench seat and straddling him. Cas' fingers speed up, stroking him faster with each gasp he lets out between kisses. His rough fingers feel amazing against Dean's over-sensitized skin. "_Fuck_, babe," Dean moans, clenching his finger against the seat. Cas pulls away from his lips with a wicked grin and crouches low over Dean's stomach, flicking his tongue over Dean's throbbing head. Dean cries out, unable to hold back his orgasm any longer with the feel of Cas' tongue on him and the sight of his scrappy dark hair bowed over him. Cas lifts his face out of dodge, smirking as he watches Dean's come shoot out over his stomach with a look of pure satisfaction.

He sits back on his heels between Dean's spread knees when Dean's finished, practically preening with how pleased he is with himself. Dean can't help but laugh at his expression. "Proud of yourself?" he rasps out, wiping the sweat from his forehead in an attempt to calm his trembling hands.

Cas nods, grinning, before he leans over to kiss Dean again. "I made you come with my own hands and got to watch you do it. I couldn't be prouder. You were beautiful," he says, voice a little rough with awe. Dean pulls him down for a deep, dirty kiss, tempted to flip him over and take him right there. If it weren't for the lack of lube, he might have really been tempted, but Cas deserves more than a quick half-drunk fuck in the back seat of the Impala for losing his v-card. He settles for kissing Cas until he's loose-limbed and giggly again, smiling down at Dean like a goof.

"Alright, sexy, I think it's time for bed. We stay in here any longer, and I'm gonna get leg cramps," Dean says, smacking Cas gently on the ass again. Cas grumbles, but reluctantly pulls his clothes back on and crawls out of the back seat. Dean follows suit, and they open the motel room door slowly, only to find Sammy slumped against his pillows, book fallen open on his lap, just beginning to snore. Dean rolls his eyes and goes over to move the book away and turn the light off. He goes into the bathroom to quickly clean the drying come off his stomach, and is crawling into bed with Cas a minute later. Cas doesn't waste time snuggling into Dean's side with a happy sigh. Dean drifts with thoughts of spending every night snuggled up with Cas, and for the first time in a long time, he thinks maybe it wouldn't be so bad to quit hunting and settle down somewhere. He drops off with a smile on his face, squeezing Cas gently in his sleep.

* * *

Cas has asked Dean if he could drive the Impala every day of their trip. Every day, Dean's response has been the same: "Sorry, babe, but no one gets to drive Baby but me." The morning after they leave Yellowstone on their way back from Seattle, Cas corners Dean in the bathroom with a coy smile he's only ever shown Dean while drunk and pushes Dean down onto the closed toilet bowl lid. Dean looks up at him with raised eyebrows, waiting to find out what Cas is planning.

"I want to drive the Impala today," Cas informs him, straddling his lap.

Dean shakes his head. "I already told you, Cas…"

"Dean, you are being unreasonable. You know that I am a more than capable driver, and under much worse circumstances than driving the Impala in the middle of summer. Do you realize that I have to keep cat litter in the back of my car during the winter so that it does not fishtail when it snows? Or that it requires a feet of strength just to turn the wheel more than 20°?"

"I get it, I do, but I don't trust anyone to drive Baby but me."

"Are you saying you don't trust me with your car, Dean?" Cas trails his fingers over Dean's shoulders, down his chest.

"No, I just…" The lower Cas' hands get, the harder it is for Dean to think straight.

"You trust me with this, don't you?" Cas asks, his voice going as low as his hands, cupping Dean's half-hard dick through his boxers. Dean grabs onto Cas' thigh, trying to hold back a groan. Cas is persistent, starting to stroke him through his underwear. "You _ do_ trust me to take care of you, don't you, Dean?"

"Jesus, Cas…" Dean mutters, dropping his head back against the wall, eyes drifting to the ceiling. Cas' fingers aren't letting up, just getting stronger and faster. Dean's caught so off guard, he doesn't have the wherewithal to try to hold out for a respectable length of time. He's clenching his bottom lip between his teeth to keep from calling out as he comes.

When Dean opens his eyes again, Cas is practically preening like a fucking peacock. "So? Can I drive?"

Dean chuckles, shaking his head a little. "You sly bastard… You do anything to hurt Her, you're gonna owe me big," he finally capitulates.

Cas leans closer with a grin to kiss him, wrapping his arms around Dean's neck. "Thank you, Dean. Just think how sexy I'm going to look driving Her."

Dean groans against Cas' lips. "I swear to god, you're gonna kill me…"

"Don't worry. I'll make sure you die happy," Cas answers, kissing him again. They only stop making out when Sam bangs on the bathroom door.

"I don't want to know what you're doing in there, but it's 10:30. Can you hurry up so we can check out before we get charged another day?" Cas gets off of Dean's lap with a final peck to his lips. He has a smug smile on his face for the rest of the day. Sam looks shocked when Cas fishes the keys out of Dean's jeans pocket without asking and gets into the driver's seat of the Impala. Dean doesn't say anything, but he's already regretting giving in. Cas is going to be an impossible tyrant all day, he can just tell.

"You're letting Cas drive the Impala?" Sam asks from the back seat, sounding incredulous.

"Drop it, Sammy."

Cas pops the Metallica tape out of the player with possibly the most satisfied look Dean has ever seen on a person—including the first time he made Cas come—and places the tape on Dean's lap. He produces another one from places unknown and pushes it in and hits PLAY. The most obnoxious emo music Dean has ever been subjected to drifts out of the speakers. He groans, squeezing his eyes closed. "Damnit, Cas."

"Sam, can you remind Dean what the rule in this car is, please?" Cas says as he buckles his seat-belt and pulls the car out of Park.

"Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cake-hole," Sam answers, grinning like an idiot.

"I am so gonna get you back for this."

"Don't talk to me while I'm driving, Dean. You might break my concentration." Dean shoots him a glare, but Cas is too busy smirking smugly again to notice.

* * *

Pulling back up to the apartment building this time around is not as pleasant as the first visit. They're dropping Cas off, and Dean's not sure when he'll be able to get back to Chicago again. He finds a parking space half-a-block away, but is reluctant to get out. Cas turns in his seat and smiles. "This is my stop, I suppose."

"I'll get your bag for you," Sam says, reaching over the back seat to pull the keys out of the ignition. Dean's grateful for the extra privacy; as soon as Sam's out of the car, Cas is sliding across the seat to kiss him.

"I'm going to miss you," Cas says as he pulls away, eyes locking onto Dean's.

"Yeah, uh… me, too."

"Get back here as soon as you can."

"I'll try, but I can't promise anything. I'm gonna make sure it isn't as long as last time, though."

Castiel's quiet 'good' is accompanied by soft fingers rucking up his t-shirt as Cas crowds closer again for another kiss. The trunk is shut with a loud BANG, but Dean holds Cas in place for another few seconds of their kiss, reluctant to let him get out of the car. He does soon enough, getting out himself so he doesn't have to watch Cas slide along the upholstery of the Impala for the last time in what will probably be a long time.

Sam is waiting for them on the curb, the plaid suitcase parked next to him.

"Are you sure you don't want to come in for a while, eat dinner maybe?" Cas asks, turning from pulling up the handle on his suitcase.

"Nah, we've gotta get back, or Dad'll be wondering. Next time, though." Cas nods, his expression turning serious. Dean looks at him for probably longer than normal, soaking in every awkward, sexy inch of him. "Sam, turn around for a minute." Dean hears grumbling, accompanied by shuffling feet. Cas grins, leaning into Dean's hands cupping his face as they kiss, melting into each other. Dean wants to memorize the taste of him, the slide of his tongue against Dean's. Cas stands on tip-toe and buries his hands in Dean's hair, tugging it as he nibbles on Dean's lip before licking back into his mouth.

Eventually, Sam clearing his throat forces them to pull away. Cas is still smiling as Dean pecks his lips one final time. "I'll see you soon, okay?"

"Yes, you will. Call me when you get to your motel."

"Yeah, of course. Don't let Neil get you so drunk you get handsy, okay? I won't be around to grope."

"And I might have to find someone else? I'll think about it." He turns to Sam, smiling. "It was nice to spend time with you, Sam. I hope I see you again soon. You have my email address and my cell number?" Sam nods. "Don't hesitate to text or email me if you need anything."

"We don't have texting yet, but I'll email you. Thanks, Cas. It was good to see you, too." They shake hands. Dean makes a mental note to figure out what texting is finally. Sam gets back into the Impala, in the passenger seat this time. Cas looks up at Dean again. Dean looks back. A wolf-whistle sounds three floors up and they both look to see Avery and Neil leant out the apartment window, grinning and waving. Cas rolls his eyes and pulls Dean in for a final kiss.

"Goodbye, Dean."

"Bye, Cas." Dean waves to Avery and Neil and walks around the car to get in on the driver's side. Sam is already nose-deep in his book. Dean waits until Cas is inside the apartment before he pulls away from the curb.


End file.
